If I stare in the mirror long enough, will the face glaring back change? Can it morph into something different? When I take my shower and steam up the mirror and, wipe it dry. Can I wipe away the face that looks back at me? This face has become to accustomed to the everyday. It’s fragmented. It needs new life. It’s become vexing to its owner.
Has this body seen the best of its days? Has it become complacent with sloth? Will it ever serve a purpose again? Has it outlived its usefulness? Why does it reject every order its given? Someone has taken it over and I can’t evict the new resident. We may have to move in and use force. I’m afraid it’s become a vestige of what once was.
Can these thoughts be replaced? Can they mimic a past state? Why do they creep up and suck the life out of you? Progress that was such a struggle to obtain in the first place. Three steps forward five steps back. The dance I’m tired of trying to master. The music was starting to soothe. Now just a collaboration of noise. I can’t seem to arrange the notes to sound like a song anymore.
Is the disorder in life back? I meticulously laid out the pieces to the puzzle. I followed the instructions. Somehow it’s become skewed. I can’t seem to find the cobblestone to walk on from point A to point B. It’s a vindictive world out there. Always testing me. I’ve tried to follow the rules. But you keep changing them on me.
And this too shall pass…