Peeling Surface

The linoleum curls back like old skin,

cracked at the edges where grout forgot.

My hand catches on the raised seam—

a split in the floor’s tired face.

Discoloration stains like bruises,

the dull dull ache of years unwashed.

It peels unnoticed, inch by inch,

a quiet collapse beneath steady feet.

Something falls away without sound,

a slow, unnoticed surrender

that gathers dust and stains,

until it’s too late to patch the break.