You, my dear, are one being, one life, one death, a combination of everything within you, spiraling around a universe that you draw out. You, darling, choose what you see and separate what you believe. An entire abundance of air, stars, magnitude, cotton, and soil in your veins. A neverending trail of words, comfort, destiny, and zones in your head. When you open your eyes, you turn on the sky, an infinite ray of light from the stars through your blood- you pack the soil tight then turn on the wind, and proceed to let the rain fall. Flowers may bloom, any color you like, or they may not bloom at all. When you close your eyes, it's up to you, you can leave the lights on outside or bring them in and have a nice look at yourself. Sometimes, in the fall of night, you can choose to go somewhere else. Just one city over, you are an ant. There, you can climb the highest blade of grass that you grew the night before. On top of this world, you can see the floor of your other one. A closer look is all you need to know what needs fixing. And who would have thought that something as small as an ant could offer so much help? Maybe tomorrow you can be the flower, and you can choose its color from its own mind. Maybe, dear, in the very second that you find yourself in, you'll be able to feel your human skin, purple petals, and sharp stinger all at once. Maybe you'll be able to sway and melt and pour down on the trees, all at once. Maybe when you breathe in, if you hold it deep in your lungs for just a second, an eternal breath stronger than smoke, you'll be able to suck it allll up and keep it there, glued to a drawing inside. Maybe then you could start over. What's it gonna be.. the infinite? the ant? the flower? the breeze? Or maybe you can decide after it all happens.