The mist settles.
Ascending,
Like bile in your throat.
Screaming.
Wind whistling over the canals.
Darkness seeps through pores.
Once the task is complete,
All
Will
Be
Sure.
YOU ARE READING
Haze.
PoetryThese are the post-medication thoughts. It is unknown how long it will take to complete, feeling is the sacrifice made for sanity.
7th January 2017.
The mist settles.
Ascending,
Like bile in your throat.
Screaming.
Wind whistling over the canals.
Darkness seeps through pores.
Once the task is complete,
All
Will
Be
Sure.