Fog
Smog
Fills my lungs
With each dreaded inhale
then comes the exhale
Where everything good in me goes
So swiftly sweeps
Out to sea
So far away from me
Replaced by
Bitter
Burnt
Brutal
Ashes of mine
About the Creator
Hannah Ungar
A deep dark abiss thats full of stars and suns, blackholes and branches, moons that rule and planets that implode. I'm about as much of everything as I can be, here to strip myself bare and reveal all that lies under my layers for my sanity
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Where there's Art there's Heart
Here's a stupid thing: I adore art, but I start to panic whenever I step into a gallery. In the one place I should be at my contented best - surrounded by walls teeming with creative expression - I fall apart. What ought to be an enriching experience, tacitly designed to facilitate the exploration of human empathy and perspective, is for me an overwhelming purgatory of anxiety that compresses me to the point I cannot breathe. At the same time, I experience a sense of extraction, as though my head is being prized open to create a hole so big my sanity could evaporate. Somewhere between these two opposing forces of vice and vortex, I feel myself dissolving in a stream of panic that makes me want to cry; and I feel so daft feeling this way, that all I want to do is run for the hills.
By Caroline Jane2 days ago in Humans
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