You said you only lean a little, then you learned my shape by heart, Turned my shoulders into furniture, called the stillness “living art.” Every promise had its volume down, but the weight was turned up loud, You rehearsed your gentle exits while you stayed inside the crowd. You swear it’s just the way things fall, like no one’s at the wheel, But you’re the one who sets the glass, then flinches when it spills. Gravity, gravity, you drag and you dare me. Pulling at my balance like you’re trying not to scare me. You let me leave in circles, then you tilt the room again, Call it “just a little pull” while I skid across your grin. Gravity, gravity, you’re calm when I’m colliding. Hands behind your back while you ask me why I’m sliding. You measure all your apologies in fractions of a step, Move an inch, then plant your heels and name the distance “your attempt.” I’m the one who takes the corners, you’re the one who stays in place, Yet every time I change my speed, you say I’m shifting all the space. You say you never push at all, you “barely even touch,” But rooms don’t lean this sideways without someone pulling that much. Gravity, gravity, you blur what you’re holding. You say I’m free to walk, then you tilt the path below me. You never raise your voice, but these walls still know the drill, Every step I try to own rearranges to your will. Gravity, gravity, you’re quiet but you’re certain. You don’t pull on my hand, you just drop the final curtain. When I stand still, you call it distance, when I move, you call it threat, You prefer me in momentum so your grip doesn't look as strong. Every time you “only react,” the room jumps first, then I, Like someone struck a match I never saw you let fly. You say, “See? It all returns,” like it’s fate, not your design, The fight for every breath is anchored in my spine. Gravity, gravity, you curve what I’m seeing. Turn a straight line into doubt and then call that “just being.” If every pull you swear is fate begins and ends with you, I’ll step outside this orbit just to see what still stays true. Gravity, gravity, you taught me the landing. How to hit without exploding, how to walk without your planning. If I don’t come back when the floor begins to bend, That’s the last time my direction answers to your spin. “Gravity, gravity…” “You don’t own my ground.” “Gravity, gravity…” “You fail to calibrate.” “Gravity, gravity…” “I’m not your descent!” “I keep moving through your pull...” “Gravity........”
