Where now.

Honesty is hard when I don't know who I am.

It's like opening an old diary,

and discovering another you.

I thought I had moved on,

I thought that, perhaps, I'd changed.

I thought, I thought.

So what now of this familiar friend

struggling to shake free from years of confusion and regret.

For yesterday may again become today and then tomorrow

What of the journey that began with such intensity.

I can feel the rising of another momentous tide,

and again my anchors may break free

and I will be carried along with the flood.

I look at them, nice, earnest and genuine,

but looking deepens the divide until

I can no longer stretch

and I have to choose.

I thought I had changed.

I thought, I thought

I thought.