I Know, I Love Metaphors Too...

My lids are flying at half-mast, a flag strung up for the death of the progress I thought I had made. I’m weighed down by the knowledge I thought I had learned, sinking past the lows I reached before. Ends I thought I had secured are fraying, coming unglued from the fabric of the cloth I had made. So much surety I felt, so much certainty that what I had constructed would last, but even brick houses can be blown over by a strong enough gale The cocoon I thought I had wound so tightly around myself is coming undone, quickly so as to leave me naked and vulnerable and exposed to eyes whose gaze I no longer deserve. I’m lost in the forest I thought I had completely mapped out, whose roads are now paved with a tar so insidiously sticky that I can hardly lift my feet to move forward in the direction I’m not certain is correct anymore. I thought I was something I now am learning I’m not the mirror I thought was clear proved to be cloudy and the percentage to all-the-way-better that in reality I am, is lower than what I had previously thought.