The time that passes

is a strange & cruel

double-edged sword.

when passing slowly,

it seems unbearable.

Yet, the swift motion

of the alternative

leaves me stunned,

& unable to catch my breath

in time to react.

Why does it have to

be this way?

Will it always be this hard?

So many questions,

but who has the answers?

As if they come in uniform

like finger prints to

identify an individual.

No one answer is the same.

The dull ache to uncover

the secret paths & whims

of my own.