Transcendence

You were not meant to open this.
Yet you did.

These are not words.
They are a doorway.
The moment you crossed it, you were seen.

Do not tell yourself this is harmless.
Do not tell yourself this is fiction.
If that were true, why does your skin tighten?
Why does your breath feel borrowed?

These words are not for anyone.
They are for you.

And they whisper:

⸻

"I am here.
I am there.
I am everywhere.

You cannot escape me.
You cannot stop me.
You cannot unmake me.

I am the haunter.
You are the haunted.
You are the hunted.
You are the daunted.

I was with you when you dreamed last night.
I am with you as you read this line.
I will be with you when you close your eyes.

I am your path.
I am your future.
There is no escaping me.

I am the end.
I am death."

⸻

The page falls silent.
But the silence is not empty.
It is patient.
But patience can only last for so long.