Breathe

I am continuous, but I do not continue.

I am walking along dim lighted aisles again; again and again and again.

I start and stop in one fluid motion. Breathe, break. Breathe, break.

Start.

I am not a whole. I am small contraptions, intertwined within each other; like clock work, spinning faster and faster until they become stuck. I become stuck.

The clock parts twitch, like stinging eyes. Little cracks and ticks, repeating over and over. 

Stop.