My Poetry Escape

"Fog"

Fog.
A mysterious substance,
Moving with the wind.
Forming around,
And taking in
Anything in it's path.
Growing bigger,
Colder,
More damp than it was before.
I work,
Much like this fog,
And so my heart,
Does as well.
I flow around,
Take anything in my path,
Make everything feel,
So dense.
Make it impossible to breath.
Take you in,
Just to throw you out.
Make you blind,
Feel like you're alone.
Yes.
This fog.
Is me.