Only the deep.
The deeper I went, the less she felt like a stranger and the more she felt like a memory my bones had kept without telling me. Deeper, and her voice became my first language. Deeper, and the walls I'd built turned out to be mirrors. deeper she was me
She wasn't hiding. She was waiting.
Deeper she was me. Not a ghost. Not a goal. Just the raw, unnamed pulse I'd been running from my whole life. And when I let her rise, there was no "she" anymore. Only the deep