Grasping each day
At the hem of a lifelong ghost
Has it all been a waste?

Clamoring
Reaching, as I’ve been taught
To feed the illusion
To preserve myself
Who I’ve perceived for so long

My arms start to quiver
Someday they’ll relent
And fall to my sides
In permanent peace

No longer meant to strain,
Outstretched in the dark,
Raking in crazed handfuls
Of water and sand