Why do I come back to the old
That which I thought I had left behind
There is nothing for me here,
Yet I return each time
Hoping to continue on.
To the next stage, to fulfill myself
But instead I placate myself
With things beneath me
Instead of shooting for the stars,
I stay where I am, easy pickings
I don’t look towards the sky
As I reach out for my next job
I look around me, I look behind me,
Something has stopped me from looking forwards
Why do I insist on stagnation? Moving backwards?
Am I afraid that I have moved forward too fast? That I have not actually moved forward enough?
Or do I think that I was unsustainably jostling ahead, lightspeed, only to be caught in a black hole,
And spit out again, not knowing who or where I was.