apartment lights low, everything feel too clean
like the air been washed but it still got a scream
she in the kitchen, hummin’ somethin’ soft and off
I blink once—sound cuts, then it comes back wrong
same moment twice, but it don’t match up
her hand on the counter, then it’s not there enough
I laugh it off like “I’m trippin’ for real”
but the room just stares like it knows how I feel
she turns to me like “you good?” kinda slow
but her mouth says it twice in a staggered echo
one version calm, one version delayed
like reality buffering what she just said
I blink again—her shirt ain’t the same
same girl, same face, but it swapped mid-frame
she don’t react, she just keeps talkin’ through
like I’m the one glitchin’, not what we do
TV on mute but it’s narratin’ us
words show up late like they hesitatin’ trust
I mute it, but the subtitles stay
describin’ my thoughts before I even say
she sits next to me, couch dips weird
like two versions of her tryin’ to sit in the clear
I reach for her hand—feels normal at first
then it doubles, like I touched somethin’ worse
one hand warm
one hand cold
one feels new
one feels old
I pull back quick, she don’t even blink
like I didn’t just break the way we think
she says my name but it comes in layers
like the house got stuck repeatin’ prayers
I walk to the mirror just to check my face
but I’m a second behind in the same damn place
smile shows up late like it got delayed
eyes look tired like they been replayed
I turn around—she’s in the hallway now
but I didn’t see her move from the couch somehow
she says “you been quiet for a minute or two”
but her voice says it three times through
I say “this ain’t right,” try to keep it low
she tilts her head like she already know
then she says “you been doin’ this before”
like we’ve had this conversation a thousand more
lights flicker once—whole room resets
same positions, same breath in my chest
but I remember the version that broke
and she don’t, she just keeps the same tone
I blink slower, scared of what’s next
but reality stutters anyway, disrespect
she looks at me soft like I’m fading out
and I can’t tell if she’s real or a doubt
I whisper “don’t leave,” but it comes out late
like my words gotta travel through different states
she smiles—but it splits in two
one stays here, one slips right through
and the room keeps breathing like it never changed
but I know damn well everything rearranged
0bl1v10n
