The winter wisps have gripped my neck
Taking every breath has left me unequipped for death

I watch my world spin and loose all control
What can be salvaged from inside my soul?

Foggy, grey, discombobulated in every way.
I sit on the park bench and wonder...
why does the wind spin in nature as it does in my head

I beg for freedom from my thoughts
I beg for independence
I beg for positive energy to reach me entirely

Try again tomorrow
Try again the next
Run until you have nothing left