I am heavy with the weight
of the world, a ghost
of the girl
I used to be.
Where is she?
The one with the feet
that skimmed the ground.
I can hear her
still, deep within
the walls of my mind,
drumming her knuckles
to the beat
of dying dopamine.
Oh how it wails
over the strumming
of her airy melody.

© Nicole Lyons 2016