Thoughts in Fog
My thoughts are hard to hold when
I know they're hard to shape.
Like climbing out of fog
just to fall into more.
I try to dream,
but worry gets there first—
a shadow curled up in my brain,
wide awake at night.
Even sleep feels heavy.
Even silence buzzes.
Even breathing sometimes
feels like work.
Life, in general,
just won’t let go.
It presses in—
quiet,
loud,
never still.
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