A lonely ghost

I don’t remember when I died. I don’t have memories of my time alive neither.

If I focus on a far away past and strongly knit my brows, images reminisce, and familiar echoes flow back in my ears. The end. Nothing more. My blurry eyes stay blurry.

To a certain extent I still live but it is not a normal life. I wake up early in the morning at the first beams of light creeping through the window. When I say I wake…