In My Head

My pulse feels like it's skipped a beat - sometimes it speeds up, sometimes it stops. It feels like even the walls are breathing with the bass, and the rain outside is playing along in unison. Words lose their shape, dissolve into sound, and all that remains is what's inside the body - chest, legs, head - everything hums with a single, continuous current. It's unclear where this warmth came from: whether from memories or from the music, which seems to decide for itself where you should ache and where you should burn. And at some point it becomes clear - the path is lost, but there is still movement. It's just under the skin now.