"I begin to wonder who I am because I don't look like me." -Zach Schomburg, from Scary, No Scary

Scarves

The sun came out, and so I begin to evaporate. You notice this first as my skin receding from my hands, my hair disappearing. You offer me a glass of water, but it’s too late for that. I’m bald and skinless and the process is only intensifying. My vision changes, on account of my eyes fading into a gaseous state and floating upwards to the sky. I now see around our house, the trees, the river and downstream to the next town, like multiple bird’s eye views. I try to explain this to you over your hysterics, only that I’m a bit hysterical myself, and my mouth is all around you, so I’m unable to speak. My skin itches and I try to scratch it against branches and our roof. My bones are now drafts of wind, and I’m carried away, everywhere, and seemingly endlessly. I’m nothing and everything all at once. It feels like jumping into a pool and bursting into flames at the same instant. I’ll fall soon again, and I hope to form correctly, and find you sitting there, complete, and unbroken.