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.