Tilted Gardens

smaller than i was just moments ago. random. like dust in the air. victims of gravity. each of us. tumbling toward a bottom that isn't really there.

suspended. in the inertia of being. shrinking. suffocating. on a waning drug. poisoned by a taste of paradise. swallowed up in the endless expanse between want and fear.

the engine churns. our world drives on. we are only passengers. on a bus crowded with strangers. we are only going there. that is our purpose. regardless of the destination.

these bodies are a prison. every touch a treason.

we are so small. pin pricks in an atom's eye. butter melting into raw dough. salt in the ocean.

time is a predator. a hot oven. a dead animal. curious knots in  a stubborn series of ropes.

we never walk. we can't. we are always falling. without anywhere to land.