Cobwebs

I'm falling through the cobwebs
The ones that I have sewn
meticulously crafted
to cushion the sharpest memories on the shelf
overhead
always
biding their time
until some weary passerby
coughs away the dust

I'm falling through the cobwebs
Dissolving the delicacy of what was once
the form-fitting hammock with the
Crash! of a fleshy juggernaut, a tumbling boulder
loathing in this self-saturation

I'm falling through the cobwebs
My parachute is similarly torn, so
I'm free-falling, but there is no freedom here
Still, I don't know why I mind this gravitational catapult, for
There's no landing in sight

Then again
I'm always gazing upwards
towards the wispy remnants of what was there
before the breaking point

I could collect enough to recreate
or I could leave enough behind
to douse the sunlight