The Transitory Nature of Self

The Transitory Nature of Self
It seems as though I am 
in a constant state of transition.
People come, people go, but
nothing ever really changes.
Perpetual motion until a greater
force propels me in another direction.
I ache to find stability in earthquake
friendly regions.
Why do I open myself to such heartache?
I must've been a masochist in another
time, another place
Doomed to repeat the biological
imperative of limbo
My karmic punishment for
some unknown wrong
So I'll continue to feel hopeful
for something else.
tree branch

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