The grey follows me
Blurs my vision and clouds my thoughts
The veil of confusion hangs before my eyes
And instead of dismissing another’s glance
Reels in the reactions of disgust as I am stood helpless behind
The transparent mask.
I stand at the mercy of the South prevailing winds as the
Illusion of billowing folds of cloth enters my minds eye and
Disrupts the meditative state of being.
I am surrounded by many, screaming, wrenching at their gut,
Burning from within and hurling abuse at my figure of torture.
Anxiety grasps me by the throat, unleashed by the offensive
Words of once loved lands, and suffocates my breath with
Pain and overgrowth.
As would a living grave hold you down to the centre of the
Earth, so would your tongue tie you down to the words you once
Promised a decade ago, and forgive you only at the utterance
Of your last sigh.