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Tossed, thrown on the shoreline, washed up by the tide coming in.

Here in the shades of the ocean, a new chapter to begin.

Another long year of no light, all locked in - trapped inside.

When the first dawn breaks, I am here – here I am.

But I’m here to seek not to hide. My year as a ghost. Passerby.

I’m ripping the words off my throat, words no one can hear.

Born from the deafening noise, in the blood between the eyes.

At night I dream of the hour of redemption to come

the beauty of eternal winter, of white in its purest form.

I am weary of life...as a ghost.

The needle inside won’t sting this time.

And I crawl deeper inside new worlds to find.

My year as a ghost passes by.

A bloodied wet child brought to life.

Out of the wombs, tossed into light.

The flood comes in, chases the seagulls away

that lust for the afterbirth from their stakes.

Air – light – warmth – sound, floating into empty halls.

Blackened lungs slowly breathe in

no way to push me back down.