Addiction Will Never Hold Me

In dreams, I dance with his ghost in the kitchen of my childhood home. He sways between Conway Twitty and Elton John lyrics. The streetlights out the window are starting to look like stars. I find home in the white noise between the falling rain, and the passing cars on busy streets; reminders of summer nights when he claimed to love, and I still believed. Now, he is just an apparition with a pulse; A manifestation of years of…