Crumbling

The room around me

Begins to disappear

Ever so slightly,

The warm glow

Of the lamp fuzzes out,

Gets bigger and lighter

And impossible to ignore,

A chair in the corner

Casts a strange shadow

On the floor,

There is a gaping hole

In the wall where

There used to be a door,

And I am not there either,

Outside looking in,

Or inside looking for

What isn’t there anymore—

A mind needs no excuse

To fall apart,

It readily fragments

With the crumbling indoors.

©Aaysid

“That’s what the world is, after all: an endless battle of contrasting memories.”
Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

Featured image from Pexels

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