change, not my forte, stumbles, trips, runs, and rolls. trying to stay static, home is my safe house. leaving with trepidation, armed with phone, money, cards, and keys, time is on my side. who wears a watch now? is there no time to count? perhaps the phone counts time, as well as numbers, letters, and words. it can capture images, stealthy counting, captures souls, copyrights, jumbles and more stumbles. freedom is not having to record or count.
my freedom is constrained by worry. check time, put time in check. constriction to stomach. pain. constriction of pores. into the hot water, they open. dipped in cold water they shut down. it could have been better. it could have made me do that thing, that thing i don’t like to do. i keep my mouth shut and my lips are turned down. don’t do it. change it up. up with the corners of the lips. try to fight it, i wanna be grim. but instead i grin.
the roller coaster they always speak of is clanking it’s way up. chug chug. fear of falling up, looking for limbo. finding neutral, the always impossible, is a hopeless profession. down like a water slide, nice and easy? painful and easy? never easy. chug chug and vroom, down the slide. land on my ass in the grass. and so the roller coaster goes.
it switches up and shudders down, always in flux.
change is not my forte.