Eventually Forgotten

Cigarette smoke curls
and rolls
a cloud over my head
shredded
by the rain.

My mind drifts,
wanders,
to him again
and a sigh
echos
in the silent night.

Always the same story,
always the same tune,
so sick of the song,
the book's grown old.

Rain falls and chills
hiding
tears of shame,
dousing
the burning heart.

Little ghost, I remain
hiding
in my shadows, hiding
pain;
never admit the truth
to beings that
listen.

Always a passing thought,
always a fleeting dream,
so sick of walking in, out,
so tired of silent screams.

Back to the shadows,
curling
about my ankles;
back to the silence,
your ghost
to listen, only.

Eventually forgotten.