If my mind were a piece of paper you'd be scribbles.
Endless circular motions that go deeper and deeper into the paper until the permanent marker broke through it.
The ink of you would work itself into every part of the paper's surroundings.
You'd be different colors too.
My anger, jealousy, happiness, and sadness.
Red, green, yellow, and blue.
You'd be fine tipped and bold tipped.
Piercing  specific places and blanketing every thought that occurred.
If my mind were a paper it'd be covered with your words.
Your words, too many, overlaid upon each other to become unreadable.
There would be none of my own, original, markings.
You'd be everywhere.
You're everywhere.