I’ve become a sort of ghost, I suppose.
Moving silently and unseen among the living.
I know I am hurting, and sometimes I even feel it.
In the dark and trembling moments before sleep comes,
when my heart stirs in a fleeting moment of awareness.
It’s only then, as my last breath of the day
sighs out into the darkness,
that it offers up one quiet and questioning beat.
Just one.
As if to remind me it exists.