I’m the ghost of a past you left too recklessly. I’m the reminder of a future that you abandoned then.
I’m the chapter of a book you burned too hastily, the corroding ashes of words never read. I’m the verse of a song you never bothered to finish, yet remained atop the stand of a forgotten piano in the corner. I’m the fragmentary letter in an uncapped bottle, drowning in unfamiliar waters instead of sailing to new shores.
I’m the letters to a name you already chose to have forgotten. I’m the candle you left to burn out on its own. I’m the silver medal you unwantedly won and left to rust.
I’m the breath you last took in a curtailed kiss, the one you decided upon and the one I regretted the most. I’m the ending of a story we never wanted to peruse, let alone write on our own. I’m the window to a home you never once thought to live in. I’m what remained of a cigarette you stifled impulsively on a fractured ashtray.
I’m the reminder of a past you abandoned too recklessly. I’m the ghost of a future that you left then.
But I’m still here.
