All's Well

I descended from the birth canal
Into a world of light
and things to fall off of.
For someone whose whole life
Has been lived inside a basketball
Legroom is a screaming horror.

Freshman Jon looked down
The halls of his high school
With the hatred of a pessimist:
Who wants the old passed off as new?
Who wants tattered clothes
Wrapped for Christmas?

Senior Jon looked down
The halls of his high school
With the hatred of a housewife.
Familiarity breeds contempt.

Dropout Jon looked down
The miles of corridors inside himself
With the wide-eyed wonder
Of someone too frightened to scream,
and saw nothing.
He is not a solid mass.
He'd only behaved like one.
He is an unbounded labyrinth
Of thoughts and decisions,
Not all of them his own.
Lovecraft would cringe from him.

Halls are narrow paths
With doors at either end.
Stairwells climb or descend.
They merely tire us.
Worse is nonexistence, the unbegun.
Worse still is infinity.

All's well that ends.