Now the sun is up again.

I don't pretend to know,
I just rarely show
how incredibly unsure I feel.
What choice do I have?
I make a move and think,
"Well well, now I'm here,
what more can I do,
other than sit and wait
for the dust to settle?"

And the dust settles.
And I'm still confused.
Now the sun is up again.

I can't say I'm not afraid
of my own poor judgment,
my lack of self-understanding.
I could always use more grounding.

Imagine walking through one door
just to hear the final crash
of a thousand doors slamming shut,
locked and then dissipated.

And the dust settles.
And I'm still confused.
Now the sun is up again.

Into the great nothing
all the what ifs and could bes
go streaming away from me,
so I forget what my own heart sounds like.

And my body aches for myself,
for what I used to know,
for a home that ceased to exist
a thousand moments ago.

And the dust settles.
And I'm still confused.
​Now the sun is up again.