Haunted

     I feel haunted by my past, old photos I can never unpack.  I have lived here for ten years, and even bought a washing machine, but I always feel a sense of temporary circumstances.  Part of me wants to stay in place, and part of me wants change.  It is a strange dilemma. 
     I have had so much loss over the years, made so many mistakes long ago, that I live with now, and I do not really know how to move forward sometimes, like I am so self-contained, and so sane, that I do not even know who I am any more.  Do I not need anyone truly?  I must.  I have to.
     Still, I long for something that I can make right.  The night surrounds me, but not with comfort or a caress, but a strange feeling of loss.  Can I right the wrongs?  No, I do not think so.  Can I be comfortable in my surroundings?  I suppose.  Can I be myself, and be okay with that?  I guess. 
     And, the night sky takes over me, holds me in its quietude, and yet I hear the sounds of sirens on the street, and sometimes my sons moving around.
     But, the pictures remained rapped in paper, in the closet, unable to hang on the walls, not enough space, and then what if I have to pack them up again?  Where do I go from this point, from A to B?  I do not know anymore.  It has been like this for years, twenty almost, of unrest.  I wonder sometimes if I am really not the living.  That is a laugh, like a horror flick.  I fear not living more than anything, I suppose.  It is not dying I fear, but not living.  And, I think, 'what now?'