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Written in a coffee shop at midnight |
Tiled floors Why do they follow me so? The uniform of the floors Wherever I go, the tiles are there Sometimes they may change their cloak Colors and shapes Eternal shape shifters I tread carefully So as not to fall in their trap For I know dark tiles hold hidden death And so I hop From tile to tile Across the floor Of course people stare But the tiles aren’t after them Once I almost fell through The faces stare at me Whenever I see their eyes, I stomp on them Whenever I get the chance But they always come back For this reason I never take off my shoes I even hear them Whispering cruel threats Irony spews from the cracks “Watch your step” I hear them say “It’d be a shame for you to fall” feigning concern I see them sneaking about my house Waiting for me to trip up To fall So they can gobble me up They fold themselves over trying to trip me And so, I will remain here Perched on this windowsill No longer trapped in my house And embrace the security Hidden in a straightjacket Where they can never find me The doctors say that I am paranoid They say it’s in my mind But I know the truth They’re after me |