Should've Had Decaf

Today I sat in a coffee shop and told the walls how great you were. I sipped my coffee with lips you used to kiss, the ones who told you she believed in everything you wanted. As the low lighting and fog of steamed milk floated to my eyes, I let down one last tear at the thought of who you were, the man whose not real, just a dream - one both you and I had. I walked out with a coffee stain on my sweater, a reminder that some things need to be washed away. So I left your ghost in the seat on the back wall, next to the window; you waved goodbye with a latte in hand and a smile across your face. You found peace in my absence, coffee shop or not, the ghost of who I wanted haunts every window I look into, every stain that melts into my sleeve.