We didn't land on four feet. Instead, broken neck and a smell in the house I can't evade. Asleep for days, still no appetite and nauseous. Still no way to explain writhing pain. Early morning conversations with porcelain and the mirror turn to arguments that wake the whole house. Eyes closed, thinking about suicide to pass time between footsteps and alarm sounds. Drifting in and out of lackluster dreams in grey. Lingering mistakes make their way in and shift shapes. From down here I think the distance to the ground seemed closer from the top before the jump. Recall scenes from a childhood home and wonder where it comes from. My anxiety eats at me when I say the wrong things or too much at one time. Believe me I try to say it right but it gets blurry as it moves from me through you, or so it seems until just after the sound. A low hum heard from the street. A violent burst of energy that made my knees weak. Is this a phase that you'll regret? Return to piles of dust down in the basement where it all began to spin out of control. Was it worth your time to clean it out? Did I drag you around? Was it a phase or a mistake? Was it both? Is there a difference here when the room spins? Violent energy crashing off the walls. Bodies dancing collide on the downbeat creates anxiety for me. How about you?