Stumble
I don’t remember tripping,
But I’m falling through my life,
Punching me-shaped holes,
Through weeks, through days, through conversations,
Picking up speed,
For terminal velocity,
Try to catch the moments,
But it’s fingers catching sand.
Did you ever get that feeling,
Like time is always bleeding,
And your memories are postcards,
Hung on filaments of reason,
And everything you were and are,
Is frozen moments called to mind,
Is it me or just the season?
You’re falling too I think you’ll find.