No. Yes.
Yes. No.
Now am in splits...finally...
Am alive again at this precise moment.
If I was holding a pen, I would twist it tight and it would make silent marks...
A blank page, and this is all I need to stare at to decipher.
Like Blood IS Red.
It hurts when I pinch.
Light hides when I squint.
Can feel the face when I smile.
Sense it when I half-open my mouth.
And several other SUCH mundane things.
All of it, Me.
Whatever that is.
And of all things that is not me,
A bit of it is you.
