I’m not sure what to do
with myself,
I’m looking out windows
winter’s sage,
filling the sidewalks and streets
people wearing high shoes
to battle the ice and wind.
Not sure what to do,
what I’m looking for,
seems always I am on some journey,
without a real destination,
just memory drives me forward.
Yesterday,
I couldn’t put two words together,
couldn’t make a sentence
out of all my anxiety.
I remember thinking to myself,
fraudulent again,
that word comes to mind quickly
when I second guess myself.
Isn’t that kind of the nature of
self doubt,
Don’t we all fall into these caverns
of self deprecation with no one
to talk us out of our demise.
Seems I’d like to pass on today’s journey.
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