Yeah don’t insult my poetry skills ik they suck but I was bored. It’s supposed to be like two people seeing each other but they’re actually the same person and it’s just two parallel universes that things went way different a long time ago but somehow the same person was born blah blah blah no it doesn’t even make sense to me. Parallel Universe You write slowly, Taking the time to etch each word Into the stone You write quickly, Splashing ink Ripping the page In your hurry You leave the page unsigned, It is the way No one has names Names aren’t needed Order is You leave the page unsigned Leaping up Waving the page in the air As you thunder down stairs Shouting your mothers name Knocking over a chair Chaos reigns You sit You eat You go back You take more stone You carve in the letters slowly, Painfully But pain isn’t important in your world “Until the ever never” “Until the never after” “Reach forever” You snatch the food, Sprint to your room, Tear the page in your hurry “Until the ever never” “Until the never ever” “Reach forever” It doesn’t make sense What you wrote Things are created by order This wasn’t You stare in confusion The words were not your own They belonged to someone else But who? With shaking hands You drop the stone It cracks Unevenly Where did that word come from? Unevenly? It isn’t new, But it is No one ever taught you it. But you know You ball up the paper and toss it into the trash “Useless” you mutter But the words on the paper came from somewhere else But not someone else They came from you But not you You freeze What to do Order is key Order is everything This is not order This isn’t possible That cannot exist But it does You grab more paper Start to write Some urge in you, Tells you to stop, To listen to it You do Then you start again, But the words are not your own “Order is key,” “Order is everything” “Until forever” You know this isn’t you You know this couldn’t be you You know the joys of running, Of sprinting and leaping and jumping What is running? And sprinting and leaping and jumping They are not you But they are You know the feel of stone in your hands You know it is a careful mix of limestone and obsidian You don’t know how you know But you do But this knowledge It isn’t you But it always has been
