The Change Order

Let me think on this again,
I can run if I really want to,
somewhere better than here,

because somewhere else always seems to be better than here,

my synapses were intoxicated,
burdened with the notion that stability would bring nothing but instability upstairs,

maybe my lightbulbs were dimming,
if that is even possible at this point,

but I was unwilling to relinquish the goods,
to give into the status quo,
to fall prey to Newton's cradle,
among other things,

after all,
I am faster than most others,
with my legs,
at least,

but my attic needs its stairs,
and my legs can walk those stairs,
but not without its garret

no,
not without its working order