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The Fog

The fog is rolling in,

and I can’t stop it from coming.

I’m so tired of it

but I know that running

isn’t an option at all.

I have to stay,

Resigned and caged,

Lest I flee and fall.

What is this thing,

This thief of my me-ness?

Get out of my brain,

and leave me in pieces.

Mending myself

From my own destruction

is a skill I’ve learned

and I know how to function

After it’s gone,

and I can move on.

It’s hard to be

Another me,

That they don’t see.

When they look at me,

They just see ‘Me’.

It’s a fight-

A battle

– and one that I’ll win.

Because, no matter what,

I know where I’ve been;

I know where I’m going.

And I refuse to let this fog

Be my undoing.

Excerpt from Circles of the Soul ~ A poetic expression of humanity.

6 thoughts on “The Fog

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