Undetermined Truth

The splatter of confliction and confusion,
lines in layers
on her face.
Excitement and trepidation,
smuggle their way into the
bloodstream that carries her to bed.

Are these feelings misrepresenting
the facts?

She applies a resistance,
coated in steel warmth.
Takes the delight on a date,
entertaining alone
the origin of the undetermined truth.

Roads

How many wrong roads have I taken ?
How many have been right?

Why do I feel they are mostly wrong,
when I know i am where i am supposed to be?

Am i not convinced
or am i just uncomfortable sitting so fragile?