The fog,
rolling in,
a giant cotton ball of grey,
cooling the hot, summer air,
allowing her to breathe,
finally breathe.
Happiness is not a destination.
It is a state of mind at any given moment.
The fog wraps itself around her,
gently moving itself across her dark soul,
purifying,
cleansing,
calming her.
He is not present,
just a thudding emptiness,
shadowing her days.
Happiness is not a destination.
It is a state of mind at any given moment.
The fog,
kissing her face with its dew,
stroking her skin,
lifting the heaviness,
that lives within.
Wired, tired, trying and frying,
the fog subdues,
quiets and dampens.
Without Him, it is all more difficult.
Without him, there is no shoulder.
Without Him, there is no relief.
Without Him, there is no healing touch.
Happiness is not a destination.
It is a state of mind at any given moment.
The moment will come again.
For now,
it is shrouded in the fog,
invisible,
cloaked in her tears.
www.MaggieCarpenter.com
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