The curtains open to reveal an empty house built from shattered memories and faded lipstick stains. A silent stage remains where heavy feet refuse to move forward. Here lies a sanctuary to drown out the truth and eternally dance with a ghost.
The morning light bleeds through the curtains but it brings no warmth. I wake up on the edge of the mattress leaving your side completely untouched as if I am terrified of erasing the invisible shape of you. On the wooden table sits your favorite coffee cup. The pale lipstick stain on its rim is fading devoured by the cruel march of time. I stare at it desperately wishing that if I dream long enough I will hear your voice echoing from the kitchen telling me that I will be just fine. But the house remains agonizingly silent.
I wander through the empty hallways and find that old Zeppelin shirt buried in the dust. The exact one you wore the day you ran away taking all the colors from my world. We were too young and hopelessly dumb to understand the gravity of love. Now the silence is deafening and the guilt is rotting my insides.
So I do what I always do. I drown the reality out. I close my eyes let the music fill the void and I dance across the wooden floor. I hold the empty air pretending it is your waist swaying gracefully with the ghost of you. But the illusion shatters. The cold shot of truth burns my throat forcing me to open my eyes. I am nothing but a hollow wraith trapped in this decaying sanctuary realizing that no matter how hard I sway my feet simply refuse to dance the way they did when I was in your arms.