getting rid of a ghost

words by Elle, art by Sneha Lakamsani

i. pretend it doesn’t exist

see / speak / hear no evil; three monkeys silhouetted on the mantel of a home we return to only in memory—and in moments like this, when we're speeding down I-64 against the sun, as if a foot on the gas is enough to stop the earth on its axis, as if driving fast in the wrong direction is all it takes to keep dawn from breaking the sky and the strings of your heart. in this perpetual twilight our shadows are invisible and indistinguishable, bleeding into each other and the rest of the night. somewhere in space there’s a shooting star, so make a wish.

close your eyes / close your heart; dream a little more / live a little longer.

ii. tell it to leave you alone

you wake up. the clock reads three am and your shadow follows you through the hallway. turn on the faucet. cup your hands under the flow and pretend that’s all there is to the dampness on your cheekbones. when you make eye contact with your reflection in the mirror, you see your father’s mouth and someone else’s face. when your mother says your name, the wrong syllables tumble out of her mouth and shatter like glass across the floor.

iii. cleanse your space

but leave everything untouched. tiptoe over glass scattered like a thousand glittering stars across a constellation of tile. make your bed and lie in it and wait for a morning that will never come. burn incense, burn sage, burn yourself. build a funeral pyre and burn, burn, let it all burn, and when the smoke clears, forget who you were and everything that was.

iv. make a deal

when you were three you bit me in the arm, baby teeth marks on my bicep, the imprint of your canines etched onto my soul. a scared dog is a dog that bites, but if i let you, will you stop being afraid? if i throw you a collarbone, if i feed you my heart, will you stop hungering for something more? and we’ll shake on it like i’m five again and we’re two dogs fighting in the alleyway, two sets of teeth sinking hand in hand, fingers interlocking like jaws. oh how many promises we’ve made and how many i’ve broken—but this time will be different. i pinky swear it.

v. the seance

how could you we had a deal you promised.

don’t you know that the world doesn’t end when you’re 15, 16, 17

when you snapped your heartstrings you were breaking mine too

you burned bridges, burned yourself, burned everything we ever built into bones and ashes

if you hate this world so much—haunt it then

haunt me

i dare you.

vi. & the aftermath

i’m sorry. i didn’t mean any of it honestly i swear.

in the midst of my own grief, i just forgot that at the heart of everything lay yours.

i’m clinging to your hand because i’m not ready for a world without you in it.

please don’t leave, even if you have to.

it’s raining outside, see. look inside, look at the mantle, the hearth.

i lit a fire just for you, so please

linger a little in the doorway;

let it be night just a little longer.

vii. cleanse your space, again

and leave nothing untouched. rain salt and holy water from your lashes; let the waves bless your ankles and wash away your footprints from the shore. sift grains of sand through fingers cupped like an hourglass, then fill the new emptiness with seaglass, sharp edges softened by seawater and time. look to the horizon. the sun is rising over fathoms of ocean ahead, uncharted and unexplored—

—an inevitability.

viii. acknowledge it

and when i finally lifted the sheet i found only myself staring back. and what is a ghost if not a scared child’s answer to the world? and from the rubble of all our grief i’ve gathered the glass and the bones and ashes and built something that will be beautiful with enough time. but for now, i’m speeding down I-64 into the sunrise, wheels spinning with the earth back onto its axis, the dawn breaking both the sky and my heartstrings just so i can weave them back together. somewhere down the road there’s a mantle with three monkeys bathed in morning light waiting for me; seeing / speaking / listening.

i’m finally coming home with my eyes and heart wide open—

—loving a little sweeter / living a little lighter.

(ix. let him go)