Dread

 Every morning I wake up

with a dead dream in my head, 

The ghost of separation haunts me, 

and has trapped me in its web. 

I can't clearly see its face, 

there's only sound, 

Laughs over me and says

Your love is merely a game

of lost and found, 

where you only lose, 

to break your heart again and again, 

to smear yourself in grey and blue. 

And I'll keep haunting you, 

because I'm a part of you, 

I'm you.