I just wanted one thing, only one, something small, something only for me.
Instead, I am reminded that I am nothing more than a memory. The shadow of the ghost of the girl that used to breathe fire. A force of nature that slipped through many a finger.
Sure, that sounds romantic. It’s not. It’s cold and empty—a place I live in duty. A place I am left to be in constant fear. My time is running out, and I can’t find my place to breathe, always being left with the breath of a maybe on the wind to sustain me for the night.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
In this quiet place.
In this cage.
In this prison of involuntary solitude.
In memories.
In fantasies.
In imaginations.
I want to be real.
But I'm not
I'm just the shadow of a ghost of the girl you once knew.
About the Creator
Syl De'Vil
Air Force SF veteran, mother, witch, Bone collector, gremlin. skip tracer, I throw knives, and write about life and love and the lack there of all stitched from insomnia. I am just a girl, looking in the void, trying to fit in where I don't
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