The mirage,

Floating in front of your face

Blurring out reality

Being reality?

Leaving a bad taste in its wake.

Leaving destruction within the mind.

This mirage, the before or after?

A way to block or cope with the reality

The emptiness it leaves.

A layer of mirages, of lies.
To yourself to keep yourself living, happy,
The mirage to block out what hurts,
The mirage hiding reality, or is it portraying paranoia?
Left with a hierarchy of mirages.

Vying for attention,
Keeping you going
Keeping you being
Not being you.

Swirling among your own lies,
Not knowing truth from fiction.

Light or dark.

All blurring into one
Is it anything but one?

Left with nothing.

Everything dropping out from under you.

This deadly mirage.

That swallows you up,
Without any trace.

Leaving in the lake,
A ripple of your pain, of your sorrows.

For anyone who’s interested, I am writing a blog to go with this post to explain. For my benefit, I don’t care if anyone reads it, likes it, or not. It’s my way of coping.

The blog post is called Trying to Forge Protections Among the Storm


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