Do you remember the time
we thought ourselves naughty,
when we wore spandex suits to a Halloween party?
You were skin and I was bones;
a couples costume we found so haughty.

I don’t know if you remember me now.
I don’t know where your spirit can be found.
It appears in quiet moments and can be quite loud.
Other times, it’s the static in the background,
but nonetheless always strikes me as profound.

Are you with me because you choose to be?
Is a ghost ever really free?
Or are you just an extension of me?
Nothing new on an All Hallows’ Eve.
Do I take you with me to the places I need you to be?
Do I shine a light in the dark corners I’d trust only you to see?

So, if I ask if you remember those nights
that we sat up talking on our porch ‘til three,
am I asking a ghost that lives inside of me?
If that were the case, would it be the worst thing?