When you think of ghosts, do you think of me? I am the tick you hear of the clock, a small sound that belies presence of body. Mine is torturous, a process to forget. I sit and become less. As the sun beams glare through window blinds at dawn, I can see dust hover, fairies in the light - slowly pirouetting, a deathly spectacle. This reminds me that spirits are more than what assails us: they are also of us, an accord of hauntings. What we have become is a passage of unkind, adrift souls. I am undone, and your life sheds itself upon my weary sights, twirling, a display of ifs.
Ashley Sapp (she/her) resides in Columbia, South Carolina, with her dog, Barkley. She earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from the University of South Carolina in 2010, and her work has previously appeared in Indie Chick, Variant Lit, Emerge Literary Journal, Common Ground Review, and elsewhere. Ashley has written two poetry collections: Wild Becomes You and Silence Is A Ballad. She can be found on Twitter @ashthesapp and Instagram @ashsappley.