You are a phantom, For you have followed me everywhere, I and I alone have built you with the broken pieces of all the men I have known. Perhaps you have been my only real companion. You are a phantom, On trains, at the park, at my lonely times at airports, you sit beside me. For you have comforted my broken heart many times, Then I wonder why I haven’t met you for real yet. You are a phantom, And I wonder. I wonder. Are you a projection of my past life? Or are you just my other personality? Sometimes I hear your cruel laughter when I call you and you don’t want to manifest. Then in between bitter tears, I wonder, are you real, why haven’t I met you yet? You are a phantom, Are you somewhere waiting to meet me too? Do you miss me as much as I do? Are you the ethereal representation of that man that exists somewhere and I haven’t met yet? Or…are you just …me?