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There's a ghost in my living room,
She whispers to me as I read and reminds me of the days of the past I let slip away,
She whispers messages rather plain to see,
But subliminally asks me to set her free.
"When it was you and me against the world,
Everything was so right,"
But now I have trouble sleeping at night.
The icy words sting my heart,
How on earth could I have let this fall apart?

She stares at me, as I do my best to ignore her cries
Sways slowly, does her best not to harm
As I play gentle music, she lets all her worries go
Blows papers in my study, asks me to join her in her dance
Her words like frost against my ear, I shutter and begin to fear
But swear its just the wind and ignore her still
"I know its true, ghosts are not real."

Days go by, but she never leaves my side.
"You can't act like I'm not here," she calls from the other side of the room
I'm riddled by her presence. "I'm ignoring you," I finally answer, hoping this is an obvious enough hint,
She shrugs and steps closer, "But you can't anymore. You know I'm here for a reason."

"What reason is that?" I choke on my reply.
She smiles at me, "Don't tell me you've forgotten, don't tell me its something you regret."
I look at her blankly, "Forgotten what?"

She swirls and my papers join her once again, "I'm the ghost of your friendship. The one you've murdered."
Only one thing comes to mind, a name I never seem to say anymore.
"Say it." She demands in a whisper, the hairs on my neck rise.
"I can't."
"You can."

She pulls me from the study, to the living room.
Its almost completely different, who would've known?
"I won't let you forget this one. This one was different.
You won't leave another ghost behind after this."

She sits me down on the couch, pulls memories from the corners of my mind and plays them on the wall,
As if it were a screen, a movie for all.
"Don't let me believe you've forgotten the mantras, the memories, the love, the promises."
She's looking at me with tears in her eyes,
I'd never known a soul to care so much.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten what all this was to you."

I do my best not to rip open the scabs of the past.
"Why are you here? To torture me? What good comes of this?" I've gotten angry, my heart is racing, "There's nothing good that can come of it."
"She feels the same way," the ghost says calmly, seeming as though she could care less of the calamity she's sturred in my heart.

"I tried," I swore, but it seemed as though I was swearing to myself verses anyone else. "I tried to reach out. Sometimes people really do just have to let go."
"No." The ghost said, she played another memory. The most painful of them all.

I watched there silently, the tears rolled without me making a single sound. "No." She repeated. "These things don't just end, you stab them in the heart, or the back, or even the face. These things don't just end...."

I looked over to her, I saw the wounds she had. Several. "What are you?" I asked.

"I'm your friendship, can't you see? Look at all the places you've taken blows at me."
I looked at all the knives stuffed in her. She was crying now, I hadn't seemed to notice the knives before, how could something like that just slip my mind?
She had them in her heart, her back, her abdomin, her sides, her legs... how many times had we taken a chunk of her?

She kept crying, and wailing, and the room was colder than ever before. "Why couldn't you just appreciate her?"
I looked at her through a fuzzy vision as the tears came in a greater surge.
"I don't know..." I muttered, though I knew it wasn't enough.

"Why couldn't you both have just appreciated each other? After all you did for one another? After all you did with one another? How could you let me die?"

I wasn't sure what to say anymore, so she continued her rhetorical assault on me. I allowed her, I hadn't any right to interject. I wasn't the one that was dead, I was just the murderer listening to the pounding heart.

"Why didn't you fight to bring me back? Why did you think what you said was enough? Were you really going to just let me wallow in the dust, though this was something so important to you at one point?"

She slammed her hands down on the coffee table. Everything in the room jumped. "Why are these other people so easy for you to reconnect with, but she isn't?"

"I don't know..."
"I don't know..."
"I don't know..."
I started repeating it out loud over and over again.

"That's not enough for me. You promised each other a friendship that would last forever. Bring me back..."

"I don't know if I can..." She was looking at me with her heart, showing me how truly broken she was. She knew what she was asking for was so much, but wasn't she worth it? Wasn't the friendship worth the fight? Hadn't it always been worth the fight?

"You have to at least try." But I had, didn't she understand? I reached out to no avail. Was messaged a few times but soon that too failed.

I had tried before. Had tried so many times, wasn't it her turn to make a fight?

She seemed to have read my mind, told me it doesn't matter who tries. As long as someone does, as long as she's given another lease on life. As long as you realize the value of the friendship you had, "It'll never die."

I won't leave another ghost behind. I won't leave you behind to wallow in the agony of this. I can't.

But we can't live miserably.
"So don't live miserably," she was so good at reading me. "Fight for it."

"And if she rejects the idea of a new lease on life for you?"
"Then it seems I'll have to haunt her too."

"Tell me what to do. Tell me how to approach her."

She shook her head and took a step back. "That part is up to you." She gave me a weak smile, she whispered as she began to fade, "Fight for it. Don't leave another ghost behind. I'll save you from the heartache if you help me live once more. Don't just let me die here, there's still hope. Don't forget your promises...."