into the waves

you tried to warn me.

"i am a ghost," you whispered, "floating between the pages of other people’s stories. i'm insubstantial, a shadow slowly draining the life from those i pass in the streets. you don’t even notice i’ve come, you just feel your energy fading and you begin to blur around the edges. sleep will become elusive at times, but there will be other days when you can’t seem to pull yourself out of the realm of dreams, however unpleasant they might be. your colour will seep onto the ground and slip through a crack in the sidewalk until you’re just black and white and grey. you’ll start to see the wall behind you when you look in the mirror. eventually, people will forget to look for you. and you’ll be lost forever to the sea."

your voice (as insubstantial as the rest of you) disappeared on the wind, and i forgot to beware. i didn't notice i was disappearing until my mother began to call for me when i was before her eyes, and i vanished from old photographs and family albums. by then, it was too late; i was composed only of the mist that rises off of the ocean as it pools in caves along the rocky shores. i tried to lick my lips and tasted salt water. my voice had become the crash of waves. i had become nothing.

my spirit followed you into the abyss years ago. i suppose it's only fitting that i would fade corporeally as well.