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.