Looking Down

I’ve been looking down,
not knowing where I’m going,
or what’s coming my way,
too scared to look,
too afraid to risk it.

I’ve been lost in thought,
dreaming and unaware,
I see my footprints,
but I’m not going anywhere,
yet I see your shadow.

I’m building a rhythm that I can’t sustain,
my heart beats faster,
my pulse trying to keep up,
each beat like a drum,
ringing in my ear.

I hear a voice,
don’t know where its coming from,
I feel you near,
the sense of you makes me shiver,
like a chill in the air.

I’m too close to the tree to see the forest,
I’m too far in my own head to see the man,
have I become a slave to my mind?
You can’t talk to same person for the rest of your life,
without some kind of fall out.

Now I can’t walk a straight line,
I’m wondering, I’m wavering, I’m faltering,
and its a struggle to keep my balance;
what to grasp when you’re blind?
what to scream when you’ve lost your voice?

So Many Times

So many times,
again and again,
in a constant cycle,
I am back to where I started.

It appears somewhat different,
only subtle nuances make it distinguishable,
yet like all living things,
we are the same despite our individuality.

I walk in a straight line to return to where I started,
thwarted by my inability to progress,
despite the evidence suggesting otherwise,
it is a welcome suspension of disbelief.

How things change to stay the same,
like returning home from a holiday,
all that was once familiar is now foreign
and we spot things we were once blinded to.

I live as I age,
no ending to what felt like a beginning,
so many times I’ll be back,
to tell my tale again.