We both know I'm me. But, like I've said before, there are things that explain what that means. Things like the stairs, and the sky--oh, the sky!
Those colors don't exist here. I can't find them. They just.... Aren't here. But they were there. Mix the intensity of magenta, the lightness of a blueberry, perhaps a tinge of the most lively off-white possible. But those descriptors fall leagues short of an explanation.
They were colors that felt better than the wind on a summer day, better than the feeling of living.
Living becomes leaving.
I'm here now, and I'm me.
The feeling is indescribable.