I feel your thoughts. I feel your thoughts within my thoughts.
Clouding my clarity.
Roaming the reams of my centre.
Your Voice 
It Echoes: echoes, echoes, e c h o e s  
Eerily through my ponderings; within my veins; across my vision.
A ripple of suffocation ignites – my colossal, abrasive reminder.
This is the Present:
“Be not mistaken my dear,”
This is Real –ity.
Acknowledging the weight of your shifting heart, 
My functioning feels faltered.
I long for an Absence of much.
Longing, though, in its sickly, cyclical, redundant nature
Mocks me in murmurs. 
And so, 
I carry your thoughts. I carry your thoughts within my thoughts.