Still somewhere

Making up stories,
Of an existence,
That speaks of stability,
Something worked up in my subconscious mind,
But reality speaks of another narrative,
My chosen alternative,
A stuck and rooted becoming,
Untried,
Unheard.

Now facing my fears upfront,
Where every known belief,
Takes up and leaves.
I sit at the table reeling,
My half finished cup of coffee untouched,
Still thinking,
Why my life paints this degrading feeling,
The permanence of failure,
An unwanted guest I keep inviting.

My contemplation fickle,
My thoughts run amok,
My feet leads me nowhere,
But they keep walking,
To an aimless
But still somewhere.