Cliche
Cobbled
Hurried steps, desperate for footing
Up and down again
I remember when I was more paced
Uncertain and odd, there was yet truth to my movements
Invoking a sound from a texture long lost
I wonder what a round moment might feel like
Pushed against a sharpness I didn't not account for
My choices are smaller still

Whisper between the lanes of edge and acceptance
I eat an apple in my mind
But only fried potato in reality
Sickly with starch and false comfort
Down, below the dancing LEDs
There, the pit of pits

I want to scream, but only for myself
I don't want to be heard or considered
Loneliness, I am no longer offered
Maybe I'll manufacture it instead?
Push away, let you down, a crack in the reverberation

A bell toll wakes me up to a new modality
A pattern I haven't yet considered?
The dull uniformity tells me no
There is discipline, and there is me
Far from married, at war with knowledge

Cliche
Cobbled
I watch the walls of my basement crumble
The mortar turns to sand
Adhesion long dried
Dust
Dust
Dust