An early morning July fog
Suffocating my surroundings in obscurity
My way is unclear.
Chapters closing ceaselessly
And predictability lies in the constancy
Of more confusion.
I clench my teeth
And claw relentlessly at my scalp
It hurts. It hurts.
My heart is tired
Refugees are not the only displaced
Where indeed, is home?
What is life?
A frantic rush to find a path
Yet all is vapor.
Twenty-something 