Soz

I’m sorry…

I don’t know struggle

I was born in the age of automatic doors

where i mistake checking a phone for a dramatic pause

and awkward eye contact for misplaced dynamics.

My elevator etiquette grazes downed power lines

and my pavement demeanor is a stage of Babylon.

It’s a wonder this world doesn’t move on without me

I’m sorry. It does. I’m just a spec of dirt on the backseat.