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.