Out of Phase

Inevitably, I'm still here. I wonder why I hadn't been this way before, or why I presume my life had been a mystery. I wonder on what I could have possibly done if I already knew myself. I wonder why I waited time to mold and let pain and hurt go through the motions of living. I wonder at loneliness and misery to have locked the chains, preventing anybody to participate. I wonder how long this could go on, before I could see them again. Even your faces blurs, I wonder if it does fade itself from my memory. Perhaps, someday, time will be my friend. And before that day comes, I'll wait.