Some days it is not sadness, not even confusion, just fog.
Thoughts drift in slow circles, bumping into each other and fading away.
You know what you want to feel, but the signal never seems to reach.
Everything feels muted, voices, colors, even your own pulse.
You just sit there, waiting for the clouds to clear, hoping the sun still remembers your name.
Thoughts drift in slow circles, bumping into each other and fading away.
You know what you want to feel, but the signal never seems to reach.
Everything feels muted, voices, colors, even your own pulse.
You just sit there, waiting for the clouds to clear, hoping the sun still remembers your name.


