An exercise machine put me into shock when it crushed my foot. It gave a passerby a fear of them forever. My house was supposed to be home. It became narrow passageways and nothing more. Items werent clutter, they were additional walls. Parchment paper and masking tape covered windows. There was nothing to do. It was a place to come in and out. I laid on pillowcases never washed. It was just a place to dwell and stray. I didnt know any better so thats what I did. Falling out and misunderstanding. Only half the time there. Holes in the ceiling exposing the exhaust fan, letting in that chopped light. The passerbies were someone who should have been dear. but I couldnt shake the thoughts of them all as strangers and I wasnt wanted anyway. Their faces went by and I couldnt look up at them at a point. I sleptwalked once a week, asking where people are. Vines grew out of the carpet, weaving in and out, and through the ceilings as well. My room had more items that became extensions of the walls. A lousy figure stood over my shoulder when I got up to no good, collecting cans, fascinated with only the insignificants. An unsettling color to paint walls. Another room down a long hallway became barren when it became too much to bear. That room evolved over so long and fizzled out in a few months. Nothing was done about this deviation. Who had the energy or power or reason. Just looking on in disappointment and apathy. Someone played hard, worked hard in the dumb way decades later, but it was too late. So it made more sense to commit to the former. Life thrown down the hall. Now its all gone. Loaded up in dumpsters and left for the city to be sent to crumble. The building blocks became rubble. I wasnt led anywhere, but it was the right time to be left. Depths.

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