The Moonlight and the Fog

Pale moonlight uncovers the heavy fog,
“Take a deep breath” they say.
Do they know the fog is plagued?

The rotten air barging in the homes of the unassumed,
Phantom accomplices stay struck on the clock
All dreams are beautiful
All dreams are beautiful

Illusions and fallacy teethe into the pures’ brains
Are all dreams still beautiful?

Conjoined forces make a pact for deception
“Take a breath” they attempt to say,
But poison gas corrupts their lungs

The moon and the fog have been deemed hypnotic,
And now all that’s left is me.

I see a girl,
Her face, pale and hair long like a veil.
She stands parallel and our eyes begin to intertwine.

She’s unfamiliar, but nostalgic ,
Her beauty; eerie, and face; screaming

Screaming her flaws and unsightliness,
Yet somehow, alluring

I hate my reflection.

I fixate on her eyes till she begins to warp,
She grimaces, and all her features begin a distortion.
A smokey light outlines her as she gawks back with trickery

I hate my reflection.

I dig my nails into my skin,
Drawing blood till the crimson comforts and consoles

I’m in a state with nothing but red tar,
My mind; blank but heavy
It’s warm and the fog covers it,
Maybe the fog isn’t so bad?

I stare into the pale moonlight and breathe in the fog,
Now I feel nothing but captivation and everything external has melted away,
Leaving just me, this crimson tar running down my arms, the moon, and the fog.
I think all dreams are beautiful.