Not-P, T

Dear Sólar,

I'm becoming the devil,

The chasm of horror you felt , drowned out by hope

both emergent at once

you're falling, stomach feels airborne

forgotten faces look back at you from darkened mirrors

it's happening fast,

the realization

the hope, the horror

that what you never thought possible,

could become reality

you've forgotten, haven't you?

what made you remember?

a faceless face, that hiding place?