waver

What have I done
That I cannot move forward?
Where have I led myself?
What tangled paths lay before me?

I ask the same tired questions,
repeating the transparent, easy answers,
one by one until they crash around me;
mere splinters of glass at my feet.

Shrouded in mystery, dull and dense,
it encircles my tightly knit facade,
And I waver in the only space
I've ever really known.

Time for a change, they say;
time heals,
time is the answer, they say.
I'm reaching forward,
grasping for the edge of that fog.