The movement has taken control.
The movement holds the same properties as air,
you cannot capture it, you cannot stop it.
The movement is like a current,
ripping the floor from underneath me.
It has warned me of its forth coming for sometime.
And I have subconsciously braced myself for this collapse;
this collapse of these mirrored realities and endless emotions.
The movement demands that the real I come forth.
I wait for me.
I hope for me.
I pray for me.
Moments are more fleeting. Time has begun to melt.
I enjoy this disintegration.
I haven't been myself for awhile.
The movement wants me to kill myself by letting go and giving in to its power,
it wants me to give in to my power
it wants me to let go of all my fear
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