There are times,
When I want to be alone,
And it's not anyone's fault.
But even well intentioned words,
That kind touches,
Turns into static.
And it feels as though a wall
Is separating me from everything else,
Filled with mist and fog.
If Feeling and Emotion are colors,
Then this thing is Grey.
Faded. Muffled.
Not invisible,
But washed-out.
When I am in that place,
There is nowhere else, nothing but this,
And there never will be.
But eventually,
It passes.
Sometimes it takes DAYS,
Sometimes HOURS,
But the wall DISAPPEARS.
The fog melts away,
The gray pulls backwards...
And I am myself again.