Dense
a bitter taste in the mouth
fog shrouds
unable to see the path at my feet
stumbling over broken flagstones
concrete juts to the sky
what happened here?
Where am I?
Am I lost in a new world
or the old one?
Unable to see
unable to focus
on what is before me?
Time is ever fluid
moving
forward
backward
sideways
never knowing what will be born
what era will be relived
only that the fog encompasses me.
Struggling
eyes blinded by darkness
futile
to see what is before
for that way lays madness.
Do I drop?
Do I curl?
Do I scream to the skies?
Bear witness to my fear
my shriveled husk
chained
to this black rock you call a heart.
March 19/19
Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay