Limbo

Everything seems just a little too right.
What was before is all a blur.
Shouldn't there be relishing in this joy?
accept the good? let the pain go?

There is this nagging pull--
This quiet murmur in the subconscious
That is a reminder of what was.
Slight yearning troubles the mind.

Isn't this earnest, unforced happiness?
There is love from every angle,
No self-restraint,
No paranoia,
No tension

And yet...

Everything seems just a little too right,
Like a porcelain doll.
All pieces are in conjunction,
But one little fault will create the irreversible destruction.

I feel like I'm in limbo
Just waiting to resume.