The Winds At My Feet

beauty is odd

You always know when a change is about to come. It is that instinct that has gotten our species this far. But very often I find myself wanting to go the other way. To turn my back on change. To try and maintain things the way they are. To hold onto what I know. And that time is now. I can feel the boisterous winds of change at my feet. Gnawing at my ankles like hungry dogs; and I don’t know which way to turn. The hurts of last year are still too fresh in my mind, and the infestations of doubt and denial are spreading. I feel trapped, not because I have nowhere to go, but because this is not the road I want to be on.

All I can do is hope that this road, will get me to where I need to be.