EMBALMED WITH DESPAIR

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

  1. 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.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s