Stumble

I feel each step

as I move forward.

The bottom of my foot

presses against the smooth wood.

My ligaments

creakily stretch

forward.

.

My eyes are drooping,

the left one twitches.

My stomach is trying

to stage a revolt.

Each finger

is broken into three.

.

Ahead of me,

is a goal.

At my sides

is nothing.

A horse blinder

sits above my ears.

I have tunnel vision

and it is harming

what I can no longer

see.

.

My feet begin

to stumble

on the smooth wood floor.

My foot

is dry and cracked

from lack of care.

My eyes

are facing

towards flat lines.

Everything looks like

flat lines.

.

Above me

is my goal

and below me

is the ground.

I am meeting it

as I miss my appointment

with destiny.

 

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