While chasing your ghost, I became one myself.

Like a book collecting dust, I stayed hidden on the shelf.

Distance between my mind and reality growing.

The light of my own soul, slowing.

You took me with you, yet I am still here.

A shadow of myself, swallowed by regret and fear.

You were buried. It’s as if I were too.

I find myself asking, “what would Dad do?”.

While chasing your ghost, I became one myself.

I’m trying to find the strength to climb down from the shelf.