Wander

you wander

not searching

but longing

just a little

unsatisfied

drifting, coasting

safe

for the most part

how did it happen

why, when

did you start to feel it building

creeping, surrounding

the undeniable shame

of knowing you've taken a path

you weren’t supposed to take

you couldn’t have known

you lied, and laid

somewhere you didn't want to

slowly, softly choking

bright exit signs at the top of stairs

too difficult to climb

that you walked down

when gravity helped

but good for us, to not start higher

and hit the ground harder

still you stare

at the end of what shouldn’t have

and cry

this is unfair, this is wrong

you knew better, you doubted

better

you move through mud

heavy keeping pulling

around the corner

to find something worse

than prickling tension at the wall

it's nothing when compared

to the clean glass between

you

and where you want to be

afraid of a mirror

or that the path has twisted away

it was easier to hate where you were

than to know where you ought to be

and be stuck

longing

not searching

having found

why you wandered