waiting
there was a time when i thought i knew who i was. there i was, sitting, staring out into the world thinking that all i saw was exactly as it was. and in the mirror--there i would be, round-faced, small, tiny fingers, bony limbs. but things never stay the same. i guess change is ingrained into our nature; evolution rather than extinction, progression rather than stagnation. i guess the peace in which i found myself was of no matter to the greater Meanings of the world; they did not care how content i was--they simply needed change to happen again, as it cycles through this world. and so i bid myself goodbye.
i look in the mirror now and perhaps i see who i see all the time but somehow something is different. there are things going on which i cannot explain. things i am too afraid to open up, things too dark to extract. can i let people know? can i open myself up? the roof under which i live is not a safe one; there is a storm coming.
there is a storm coming.
i am not comfortable but it is not time for this kind of change, apparently. this kind of change must wait. there is a storm coming, but this storm must wait.