Indecision

I don’t know
If I have
The ability
To go where I need to
To convey what I want to.
What I thought of as depth
Was really just scratching
The surface of what all
Was really there,
Waiting to be detected.
I want to go there,
Yet I don’t as well,
Because what story I weave
Is also a truth
Buried deep in me.
And times like this
I wish
It would just stay buried.