10 Leaning on the blunt edge

It never happened all at once. Nothing ever does. You wake one morning- and something no longer belongs where you left it. You don't remember agreeing. You only remember- how much simpler it was yesterday. The first time I pushed back- nothing moved. Only the weight changed. I could feel it gathering- without knowing where it came from. Holding my ground- only seemed to make it heavier. Every mark begins- long before you notice it. Every step backwards- still leaves the ground behind. You don't feel the edge. Only the weight. I stopped asking- whether I could stop it. I started wondering- how many hands it took. Not because I could see them. Because I couldn't. Maybe that's why- it leaves so little behind. Nothing obvious. Nothing broken. Just another place- I don't quite fit anymore.