First created February 3rd, 2025
Last edited February 3rd, 2025
there’s nothing left of me here
‘cept the ghost of a place
where nothing meant much
golden days, and bouquets
of yellow dandelion reduced to
drywall rubble
and solemn memory
yet I kept on
there’s nothing left of me here
‘cept smiling faces
seen only in reflections
acquaintances, friends, mentors
cherished all the same
reduced to
fickle visages in fleeting recollections
yet I kept on
there’s nothing left of me here
‘cept a navy sweater and khakis
befitting a boy
tattered and torn and
somehow, freshly ironed
that he wore, in the shallow grave
where only I said my goodbyes
yet I kept on
there’s nothing left of me here
‘cept a hazy silhouette, wandering
familiar streets in familiar winters
all soaked denim and deadpan glares
a persistent spectre, a prosaic revenant
carving a path through the mud
in a way they only could
and I kept on