Trapped In My Fog

My words can’t seem
to breakthrough my
medicated fog
Lost in my inability
to hold a pen
My thoughts close
with my eyes
They slumber in my dreams
involuntarily for
Whisper from
the edge of
consciousness for me
to come out
and play
but it’s time for another
dose of pain relief
and twisted memory
Anxiety creates a
cave in my chest
And I feel
as though I’m free falling
into panic
My words
I know my words will save me
but they are trapped
So far out of reach
and it’s time for me
to slip into sleep


4 thoughts on “Trapped In My Fog

  1. All poets are infinitely lonely , since we hang on to a frequency less understood by the pragmatic and besides those connections happen for fraction of a second ….I was worried about the fog of medicines, post operative exhaustion, post anaesthetic reactions…..and if you were safe. Thanks for the reassurance. You are younger than me …..I felt a bit maternal πŸ™‚ Take care

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for checking in on meπŸ™‚ The healing is taking longer than I’d like and the medication fog doesn’t help. But I’d choose that over the pain any day. I have to keep reminding myself that it hasn’t even been a week yet. I don’t have many people I let in enough to help me out but the ones I do have are great and my world is enriched immensely by them.


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