Fog.

An obscure mist, blocking the view.
What will become of me, him, her, you?

Opaque and unsettling the future has become.

Curiosity peaks and settles happily under thumb.

While I insist on crushing its bones and pressing its blood.

I know only one thing is sure amidst this vague tedium...

Whatever comes to pass or why...

I will embrace it, chest to chest, eye to eye.

I will make love to it, heart to heart, thigh to thigh.

I will remember it.

Should misfortune befall me.

I will smile.

Fearing not long periods of turmoil.

If anything, misery makes me shine brighter.

It encourages me to laugh.

Fate is fate.

Why fight her?

I am the words here, written in pen.
I am words you hear recited in your head.
I am this and that at the same time.
I am a hundred hammers making a rhyme.

The shout that never raises its voice.
  The scream that cannot contend with all of the white noise.
    The immobile rock that will not hear a sound.
      The never ending ticking of a clock counting down.

I am measured in madness.
I am forgotten before found.
I am hope, hopeful, hopeless, hopelessness.
I am a square that is round.

The challenge put before us all.
  The sharpened pencil, ready to draw.
    The countless times someone was kind.
  　The ugly bat, not deaf, but blind