Fading

The rain is falling in the early morning hour. Soaking the ghost of my lingering nightmare. If I was able to vanish at dawn or just float away with every raindrop touching my feet, I would be gone. Out of me and out of you. Forgotten. Invisible. As if I had never existed. But even the rain remembers, leaving traces on the earth, marking the place where I stood. I wonder if the storm will carry my name, or if it, too, will fade with the light.