Fragments blur when you look too closely.
Ahead hangs a dark cloud,
swollen and heavy like a rainstorm.
You know it’s made of memories
but parts of it are missing. Gone.
As you move closer, the air turns cold.
Your breath fogs.
Black mist drifts from the cloud,
pooling around your feet.
You hesitate for a moment
before stepping forward.
The cold deepens as you walk and the veil around you
feels like walking through heavy, cold rain.
The dark mist clings to your skin,
settling in your lungs with each breath.
Around you, shadows flicker at the edge of sight,
half-remembered moments dissolving before your eyes
and the deeper you walk,
the colder it becomes.