You; the girl in the pigtails, the one with the masks, the hidden knife; we are fading into nothingness, like the prettiest of sunsets- fading into the next, the next one, the one after, until there’s nothing left of us.
A moment of both celebration and mourning, of the dreams you have lived and those futures not realized; of the masks of the past and the veil of the future; of the passing of yesterday, and the inevitability of tomorrow.
The clock struck midnight and she was gone.
If my name is on the page, if my name is scrawled on some distant pillar, I can’t disappear.
I was here.