Holy Ghost

eldest daughter missing her fleeting childhood core

In the age of running wild through overgrown fields and hedge mazes
bound by old ropes we pulled from dying trees,
you pulled me headfirst through the creek
but the fear of drowning submerged me like I was a prophet,
watching lines on my hand snap in two.
I cut the rope with my bare hands
I had to let you go free,
we made a sacred vow we’d meet again when the sun became the moon.
I’ve been waiting for all years and years
is it nearly over?

The years passed like scenes of a show in a quick motion montage, 
sun flashing across the faded screen
the wind blew grains of sand into the river.
In this speech of finality, I’ll confess I stood on the shoreline
and waited for you to show until sand embedded in my hands
time was ticking out of my control,
I’m sorry I had to go, but I can’t forget you left first
saying we would grow up together
all you did was leave me bruised and dreaming you’d return.
Empty promises I watched sink to the bottom of the river
never heavy enough to hold onto
and I should’ve known our dreams only existed in fake fantasies,
but I stayed there, wondering
did the papers with our name and what our life would be worth send you running?
As our life flashed before your eyes on a film reel
and you hated the ending written for us
scared to fall past the mark, higher and higher,
so you wrote a fool’s fable, turned our plans and promises counterfeit
until they were paper-thin but still you snapped beneath the weight.

An old rope laid in two on the dried up riverbed
edges frayed and lifeless like the handheld, foreshown death vow
and I tried to warn you, as you fled like the Lost Boys did
the path to your escape led to your death,
and left me stood on the shoreline, bruised and praying you’ll come back to me.
You said we would grow up together
sacred vows I held onto with my white knuckled dying grip,
the faith I had in you sank to the bottom of the river like a lost religion
lost to the Lost Boys ending of your life.
I waited for you for as long as I could
but as the Goddess of Time shattered her hands like glass
and chased away the last traces of summer sun with winter’s frosted hand,
I just knew it was time to go.

My prayers never faded from existence
chasing tricks of light in window reflections.
You holy ghost, haunting all of my what ifs,
you said we would grow up together
a vow worth more than rings intertwined in the tragic fabric of dreaming
every night you would arrive at the shoreline where I waited for you,
or knock on my bedroom window where a guiding light still shines in holy prayer.
But at this one woman funeral, the final line of my eulogy draws near
there’s no sign you ever kept your promise.

You and I went from running wild through overgrown fields
to burying a body underneath the hedgerow,
marked by the nameless tombstone hidden amongst the wild for years and years
lilacs grow around the stone my knees make their bloodied home.
I grew up alone
with the age-old ache of promises that weren’t mine to keep,
little snaps in my bones until my soul bled.
You promised we would grow up together
recalling promises I would’ve drowned for,
as I carve our namesake into a tombstone 
tears stream out of my eyes and into my mouth.

You said we would grow up together. 

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