this feeling of familiar...

the spots &streets leading to spots

atmosphere &dust &nothin changes &i smile secretly

i know nothings changed.

i feel nothings changed.

i havent changed &i smile for comfort.

i havent changed &i smile at the illusion of change.

i have changed &it seems so apparent...

an air of escape? a brush with freedom?

hours under the familiar proving anxiety

minutes in solitude to breathe solitude

craved/yearned for solitude in comfort/familiarity &the guise of change...

the chance of random &peaceful unexpected interruptions

the venerated moments of accident...

the plannedfor &madefor manufactured &seemingly saddened

the brief &timed so discolored &already faded like photographs so desperately preserved in that underthebed shoebox...

im missing the missing.

craving the craving.

yearning for the yearningfor...

i have changed &it seems so apparent...

ive changed when nothings moved

ive changed when nothings changed &i grow dust myself

the expectation never met-

this does not change.

nothing changes &i smile at the illusion of change...