When Things Tangle Up

My head, which was once clear, is now cloudy. Is now filled with dust-filtered light. Is now hazy. My addiction to chaos, rubbing sordid hands together, is filled with evil pleasures. Am I getting what I deserve?

Months ago, I was a different species. Cold and retracted. Reclusive. Mourning what I couldn't have anymore. Reaching toward the wrong things, with that ever present feeling of dirt under my nails. Like an alien on this planet. One simple twist of fate lead to another. A forced step in the doomed direction lead to a higher self confidence. Confidence to ask questions that ended in periods. To accept the unwanted answer. I heard exactly what I wanted to hear, asked no questions, and promptly took it running.

Now set between wanting and waiting, I'm in this place. While time moves like a dancer, mocking my still feet. If only I could know for sure. If only I trusted myself a little more. With two hands full, like a Libra scale I'm simply waiting for things to balance out, and for progression or lack thereof to make my decisions for me.

Please excuse me while I linger.