In and out

If you mean what you said it won't work.
Fear has deferred to the dirt.
For the first time since september,
I'm really getting my s**t together,
come post some passive news.

I meant what i wrote when I said
that the compost is getting cold
for the last row of problems,
wonder if its worth eating at all.
I'm scared of the truth so I stall.

Forwards and backwards I crawl,
back to my failures I fall to and from,
i fly,
to bottom of it all,

My grandfathers moving,
in time,
in the halls.
Framed is a painting,
an effect from a cause.

Inside I am waiting
for my past to catch up.