Letting The Fog Grow

Flashes come to the forefront,

glimpses of a past that has had a fog

all showing the pain I chose to forget.

The cracking of the fire

resurfacing that crack I cannot unhear.

The smell of alcohol

it still burns my nose

burns my mind.

The fading of my mind settling in as I only remember pieces,

the puzzle still incomplete

just like me.

There is no undo button

to change the way touch burns my skin

or smells take the fog away.

There is only hope that the fog will continue to grow

and I can let it consume that day away.