I burn my hand on the fire
because I can’t tell what is real
anymore.

The only color that can be seen
is the flicker of the flame
glinting through the fog.

Every way I turn is filled
with the emptiness left by the
smeared faces of former friends.

Reality of gray and lines
never filled in by the people
that were supposed to occupy the space.

I wave my hand across my face
checking the vision
that I see.

Never did it dissipate
cannot escape this weight
nevermore.