Being Lost While Found

"I dream of the singular. Clarity of breath and moment without an audience. The in and the out, each belonging to me. Except, I found I would miss the lapping of waves in my mind and the call of the ocean - many becoming one and one becoming many."

"I asked a friend about existence. Is existence the weight of the absence of a soul in my chest? The echo of my own breathing so loud it suffocates all recollection of what it means to live."