all wrong

I am listening hard, through the splintering shards, of my life, as it shatters. I go through the motions, and it feels all wrong. Nothing fits, nothing seems to flow anymore. And somewhere I feel as though I am missing something important. You'd say I'm missing you, you'd say I made this choice. Who is to prove you wrong? I'm certainly in no position, no state-of-mind to be proving much of anything. You've heard it all before, so have I. Still, we don't move forward. If anywhere, we go back - and mull in the puddles of memory. and I miss the smile I found on my face on cold nights like this. But I now am in a position of questioning 'did you ever bring that smile?'