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  • Cali Sullivan


Ghosting through the corridor,

transparent fingertips caressing

old framed photos that I will no longer

be a part of.

The subtle smirk on the

still photo

serving as a cold reminder

that there is nothing left that remains of me

except frozen moments

captured in candid photos.

Yearning to find myself in

this picture nailed on the wall,

all that there is left to do is

close my translucent eyes,

and ponder what I would

do or who I would be

if I could only rise from my bed

the following morning.

Contemplate where my living

legs would make me to,

or the decisions I would make

in order to not fade into a frozen moment

with wooden borders

and beneath glass.

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