Standing Still

fists tightened,
flailing mindlessly
against the grey,
another day,
the same way the ink
has marked these pages
time and time again.
a retraction,
steadily counterclockwise,
skimming through the annuls
of every step taken,
every foot print
however obscure,
examined to the very grains
of sand
before the wind
sweeps them from sight.
gazing the horizon of this
void,
this blank space,
like someone hit back space
and I'm rewriting my life,
reliving the strife,
taking the left turn
at the fork in the road,
In all,
just standing still.