Repetition

I walk in circles

in my kitchen,

my feet tracing the

over-sized square tiles

that stare back at me,

mocking me for choosing

to avoid their borders

like a child who refuses

to step on a crack,

and when I venture off into

another room,

my feet take the

paths most familiar –

to a view of the street,

a neighbor’s yard,

the trees,

or maybe

a passing car.

 

I’m tiring of this place,

these walls who have known

me for so long,

the ones that remind me

of being alone…

 

 

© Christopher Rupley 2015

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