We are ghosts. Transcending space and time. Lost in the folds of memories. From ebullient to lackadaisical. In the yonder of our youth we were magic. Glittering a brilliant beacon in the murk of iniquity. Sliced fractional at our core. We watched bewildered as flailing limbs thrash about frantically searching for familiarity. Whilst the pieces that remain resign to withering certainty. Neither here nor there. We are left to question if we belong anywhere. We are the night fading in and out of light. Only to shine briefly on the agnostics of this world. Beyond the veil lies more than what is seen.

We are ghosts, even to ourselves.

-Andi C E Smith

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