becoming a shadow

The fear of uncertainty shudders through the apartment
that he’s rented for the week
(at half what he expected to pay).

He’s spent the last two hours 
talking to a lovely girl over dinner
but he can’t remember anything she said.

He has been stuck in this trance for three days.

Walking down the small street just off the large boulevard
he peers through a dusty window
and sees framed photographs of a happy family. 
One off them is dirty and cracked and lays flat
just next to the others.

The wind shifts throughout the day 
and thoughout the week 
along with his disposition.

The sky is only blue for several rare and fleeting moments. 
It must be more comfortable in a murky grey.

He wakes up in the morning
more tired than he’s ever been
falling asleep at night is like dying
for just a few hours at a time.

He has been overtaken by his own shadow 
seeping into the cracked pavement
of the streets that carry his weightless movements.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

He looks in the mirror on his way out of the flat
“oh how lovely,” he says.

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