The cat comes on little fog feet.

It scratches at the door like a prisoner
and I let it out.

Again.

Sometimes before the sun comes up,
I like to disappear.
You won't catch me sleeping peacefully in a bed beside a boy I love,
because I simply can't.
I sink myself into the mountains before the dew even sets on the ground.
As I go higher up, I know I will eventually disappear into the fog.
If you are looking for me, you will not find me
because i am learning the art of

how to disappear c o m p l e t e l y

The fog of forgotten memories
Blankets the cracking pavement
So nothing can be seen aside from yellow and white lines
and the bottoms of tires.
A slight drizzle begins to fall out of the clouds
But just as quickly as it started
the fog is receding
And the diluted colors of a vibrant city
pulse all around
Like a heartbeat from somewhere deep inside.
Muffled sounds of people come from somewhere,
come from everywhere.
Its almost as though its all a dream,
you can focus on one thing or nothing but not everything at once,
and everything seems too crazy to be real
But a pinch on the arm can be felt
And the dream doesn’t end.
Everything looks and sounds like its underwater
And the colors blend together until no colors exist at all.
The sounds get louder and everything is coming more into focus
And a symphony is playing
With the staccato of honking horns
And the shrill of constant chatter.
But its all hidden from the rest of the world,
the sensations fading as you cross the bridge away
And looking back, all that is seen is the fog and the road,
Making you wonder if you imagined it all in the first place.

I.

No, don't go now. Please
don't go now; the fog is creating ghosts
out of people and we're breathing clouds out of our mouths.
Tell me about that time when you held your breath
under the lake for six years and still survived;
tell me how if I do that, it'll never work.
I'm not a sea God
any more.

II.

My knees tell better stories than my tongue
ever did, please don't; wretched hive harangues
the mind in a plague, can't you see I'm holding you down
and telling you you're all I ever wanted,
you're all I ever wanted; your head is the stuff of dreams
you're all I ever wanted; you can put your arm
right through me and only feel mist;
I am fog. I'm creating ghosts out of you.

III.

Make it up to me in a rainbow of hues of grey;
at the end of it I'm holding my ribs open. I've never
been more colourful and sad at the same time.
You're the mirrors to my house; stay
has always sounded better than don't go

yet neither seems to work anymore.

I feel
In a fog
When I walk down the hall
All the things I see are there,
But only half there to me.

The light is too bright.

I pass things
I see things
I get to places,
But my head feels half numb
And my  forehead feels heavy -

My legs still know how to walk though,
So I continue to float.

Through the morning fog
I couldn’t make out your face
An eerie silhouette, facing me
snap
snap
Twigs under your feet
Shivers up my spine with each step
closer
closer
Come nearer, dear
Vague is the memory
But it haunts me still
Your breath against the chilling air
An outline, moving but not approaching

oh.

To my dismay, you were walking
In the other direction.

the fog rises up
i succumb to the blindness
becoming quite lost

There's a fog over Inverness,
Wrapping the banks
Of the river Ness;
Enveloping me
As you once did.
A fog that will not dissapate,
A mist that mirrors
The break and ache.
A fog that chides
Lonely distress.
This fog can't hide
What I can't forget.