Ethereal and Everlasting

She extracted herself from the shadows,

time and time again,

because she had to survive,

because there had to be more to this life.

Her tragedy was that she remembered every single intricate detail,

down to the flutter of an eyelid,

or the contemptuous curve of a lip,

from a chapter she couldn't rewrite

about an ill-fated antagonist

and a protagonist who yearned to fight.

Her fantasies lived on as delusions.

Breadcrumbs morphed into feasts.

Playlists evolved into love letters.

And even now,

as she breathes life into dreams,

she wonders who is really asleep.

Ethereal and everlasting,

she is capable,

yet she is also afraid.

How quickly she forgets,

the ease of escape from her fate.