Jump

"When did I became yours?"

"You always were. You just came to notice this now."

And then it's almost like a waterfall going backwards sometimes.

Everything flickers.

And then it's like being at six places at the same time.

And everything is so beautiful.

And everything is so sad.

And everything is so, quiet.

Wave

It recedes, and every particle rests back onto you.

Your skin almost breaths the moisture.

The warmth of the sun is often teetering on the borders of being comfortable and exceedingly hot.

You sink just a little more into everything.

Sounds and noises and wind and people and its just so quiet in your head.

Flame

And the fire burns everything. Everything.

Like acid flowing through your veins, its beautiful, and it burns.

Black ink seeps past my skin yet like sponges soaked too long, it never stops.

Glass shards on your little toes, a sandpaper massage. Perhaps a cheesegrator haircut later?

And everything radiates so glaringly, so soft yet so forceful.

Tell me, have you met the other me?