you / structure

you walk in carrying a second grid

not drawn

not approved

running under the skin like voltage

they call this place stable

fixed points

named corridors

a clean map of movement

but you feel the drag

where weight is mislaid

where time buckles

where something essential has been filed

into silence

no one says it

they adjust the light instead

you touch the fault line

once

and it names you

too much

too sharp

as if precision were a crime

as if seeing were excess

you try to stand inside their geometry

let the angles take you

inherit the tilt

but your body won’t lie for it

won’t call absence enough

won’t translate lack into language

there is another structure

you don’t invent it

you remember

it moves under everything

quiet, exact

refusing permission

they build upward

you feel downward

into what’s missing

into what could hold

this is the split

this is the cost

no collapse

no clean break

just you

carrying a map that doesn’t land here

refusing to forget it

anyway