ghost of myself

if you want to love me you can go right ahead
but don’t expect, 
never expect
don’t hold high expectations of me
between the crevices of your fingers

I can’t love you back

I was told once that I can’t choose certain things, 
like: who loves me, who cares
I can’t make you stop though I want to
I can’t make you give up

always the same, it comes back to 
I haven’t done laundry in weeks 
and the way my clothes feel, worn to the bone
is it a replication of your love for me?
is it an imitation of adoration worn thin?
can you keep on?

you can’t keep on this way

plaid shirts and hoodies and charcoal grey sneakers
I have never felt this way before
it was close to something, then close to nothing
it was thoughts of something, then thoughts of nothing
it was love of something, love of someone,
then love of nothing at all. 

I am fading, your outline is sharp and clear
I am fading, can you see me
I am fading, can you hear me
I am disappearing, wasting away
brittle bones, thin skin, chalk face, marble eyes, sliver lips, ghost.

I am disappearing. 

I can’t make you love me, I don’t need to
you’re already doing that on your own
I can’t make you save me, but I want you to

I am disappearing. 
look at me
look through me 
my voice, the dull whir of the fan

gone, it’s possible

It is possible I am already too far gone.