It’s the kind of fog
that stole my breath
Thick and shadowy
Dark skulking movements
that stuck to my skin.
Ominous and dangerous
It held the memory
of every broken scream
I hated this kind of fog
And for the longest time
It’s the only kind I knew
It swallowed the sun
leaving me isolated, afraid
In a state of unholy detachment
that measured me for death
and embalmed me with despair
There was a time that the fog was ALL I could feel. A nightmare house filled with shadows and taunting Jesters. Dark conjurors of manipulation and deceit. It was filled with false memories of delusion and self sabotage.
In that fog I fight a war against an invisible enemy. A war that can’t be won but can be survived. The fog is a part of who I am. It’s not the only thing I am.
2 thoughts on “EMBALMED WITH DESPAIR”
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
HASTY – Smothered in fog
Despair could be very scorching
no wonder is difficult to manage
feeling it all the time is exhausting
in us can create a lot of damage
another firearm of mental illness,
depression, anxiety & its package
fighting in community, getting help,
being open is a strategic advantage.
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