the sea anemone in me

Life is always moving on, moving away from me, clocks are ticking, the days and months of this year are steadily over and done before I even realize the date. I get so down on myself sometimes, disappointed at where I'm not, all the places and things I've wanted and haven't actualized; possible and impossible, regrets are mostly all the same. All the words and images inside me, colors, shapes, they're trapped, wasted, forgotten before they've ever lived. It's getting a little better though, I'm a little further along from where I've been standing. Sometimes this quick sand seems like an optical illusion and I chastise myself for not forcing my way through and out.