There is coldness in your warmth, distance in your proximity. Who am I in your head? Who are you? You are in my head but you are also out there.
You stir things up up there. Chaos and destruction is all around. I welcome it. But will something be left when the dust settles? Or will it just be me, sitting alone, looking at the shards, trying to figure out how they fit together?
You are not the person in my head. I try to be in your head, but I should just be. I welcome you to enter my head instead. Can I have you in my head? Or can you only be out there?