Breathe

9.7.16

The fog of apathy reappears, its spindly fingers envelope me. I am drawn into myself. Flags in varying shades of red, white and black unfurl gently waving in the breeze. Where am I? Why am I here, again? My thoughts and feelings are piled on my chest, gradually crushing me.

Two words, five letters each, wage war. Their battlefield my head and heart. No utterance can escape my lips. Captive by the vice in my tongue. Dazed by the illusion and reality, the fog thickens. It’s weight increasing by the mist of emotions shed.

What is fabricated based on my version of two words, five letters each? What is real? Why am I caught up in the illusion of being swept?

So clearly articulated is the reality that the illusion will not be generated into a future state. Why am I still standing here dumbfounded by the only reality that can be? So plainly not a thought, priority or motivation. Am I not worth more to myself? Should I be valued more by someone else?

The fog dissipates.

The flags present, but stilled.

Just BREATHE.