There are craters in here and I don't know why
they are here.
Sometimes their existence curiously borders on the literal side,
thumping and knocking as if with an intention
to push me down, and I can feel it
in my chest.
It was at the precipice of our second floor,
covered in polished wood, and
I was drinking a glass of water.
It was the time for depreciation
I know how to fix but I don't know why.
I do a lot of things because
one action is extraordinarily unakin
And this variation, does it take hold on tangibility or
is it only in my mind?
Is what I am doing
different from what you are doing or
are we all doing the same thing?