Poetry: “The Fog”.

I feel shadows rushing over my mind

Like running through a forest on a sunny day

Slipping into reality and out

Wishing for a different kind of forest

I am disappearing

Me, as a person

I am disappearing

I dream of better days

I look for better ways

But in this fog my mind stays

Conscious decisions that are wrong for me

I choose them because they seem so sweet

I am sure of few, disillusioned on most

How to separate the truth from the bullshit

Fuck, to just see clear for a day

One day is all I ask

The reality of what I know is this;

I do not belong

I do not wish this song

I am stuck in a life that seems so wrong


~ Becca ~




6 Comments Add yours

  1. Rob says:

    The warm winds of change are picking up. They will invigorate you. They will lift you. They will help you fly!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Herbert Uba says:

    Interesting monologue. Despite the dark theme, I find it interesting how you laced the poem with some implicit hope and primal courage. If it was a reflection and the thoughts pile on you a little too much, always remember that identity crisis is not unique to you. Still, you are a heroin for feeling the changes and the need to control the winds.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Rebecca says:

      It’s interesting to me that you still read some hope and courage in there… maybe I am not entirely lost after all.
      Thank you for your kind words.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Herbert Uba says:

        You aren’t…just keep walking! A life of a fighter gives the ultimate fulfilment….

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Rebecca says:

          I like that… I’ll have to remember that!!

          Liked by 1 person

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