proclamation: I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing   
     somewhere along the way
I stalled out
     or missed a turn
admission: I have a hard time letting go
which leads me to believe I, perhaps, made a way out of little in order to
stay
all the while, the Impetus had other plans
or so it seems
how can one be sure?
today I’m certain of very little, as far as what’s next
I’ve asked, hinted, shouted, cried
yet here I sit
front porch on a hot day
familiar, yet achingly so
response: answers will come because tomorrow is consistent
it always follows today