Ghost.

Your ghost, still haunts me in the door frame of my mind,
Your flaming hair, left behind.
I move on,
But I still hear you,
Calling me incompetent,
Leaving me those messages.
Three years ago, we made that promise,
Three years ago, it was broken. 
I never got closure,
I just got tears,
I just got pain.
I stand now, a woman whose three days shy of eighteen,
And run from the fear of never feeling so I won't get hurt.
I don't love you.
I don't hate you.
I just knew you.
I wish you luck,
I wish you love.
But that doesn't change the bitter memory of your existance.
It doesn't undo the damage.
It doesn't erase the fact that you were once here.
You're just a ghost from my fast,
Destroying  my future.
But my fears of you,
Won't make me look back.
I have to get past your ghost.
Maybe that would make it finally disappear.