i was not there
Here she lies, in her bliss. Her mind strips, slowly, away from any sense of the tangible reality of which she tastes herself in, of which she feels herself in, and of which she associates herself with. Here she lies, but her bliss is yet to be found. It is somewhere else, somewhere where she lost her mind, shattering any connections to herself like broken shards of glass, sharp and misunderstood, but misunderstood only to her. She was out of her own control, and her senses, no longer her own. As she drifts away, through the thin fabric which holds her and restrains her no longer from reaching where she needs to be, she breathes for the first time. She feels all that there is, and she senses nothing. There, she does not need to be her, because she knows that the warmth which consumes her and wraps around her is not her, but a being, a vessel, lifeless in its gift that is complex and completely untoward, its gift of life that is feared and warned of. There, in the cog...