Here I sit.
Silence blasting in my ears,
I can see them talking...
But I can't understand.
I try to hear them, maybe read their
lips, but I can't even recognize
their movements.
It's alien.
They're alien.
I can't understand.

They must be speaking something I don't.
That would make
sense.
Right?
But, it's all too fluid...

Tiny, invisible monsters, flow through my veins,
ripping them open with fire as they go,
leaving not a soar, not a pucker, not even a red
line.
Not a scratch, just a tiny scab that could never last,
left in my arm.
It won't last, I'll have no proof...
But, why would I want proof?
Can't I just go away? Let it go? Forget all this ever happened?

No. I didn't want this.
But I can see myself giggling, moaning at the unfamiliar numbness... Through a tunnel of dark.
But it that really me?

But what if I don't want to..?