The more I think

I walk.

I walk in my head.

In my brain,

My thoughts,

My feelings.

I look over

At your hand.

Hmm.

The more I think about it,

The more tingly I get.

Tingly?

Fuzzy?

I don't know.

Something in my stomach

Something in my hand.

How easy it would be...

The more I think about it,

The more I feel completely outside myself.

Watching me

From an outsider's perspective.

This is how it always is.

And when I get outside of me enough

I do the thing.

So I did the thing

And I reached over

And once it's happened

I immediately relax.

I can be chill, see?

The fuzzies don't go away

But maybe they never will?

I fall into step

Into sync with you.

This.

This is what thinking less is.