The fog is palpable.
It drifts through me,
And in me,
And chills me to my core.
It doesn’t feel real.
I don’t feel human.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The fog is palpable.
It drifts through me,
And in me,
And chills me to my core.
It doesn’t feel real.
I don’t feel human.
Such a powerful sense of being lost as you become little more than mist. Poignant and powerful.