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This appears in a pre-2010 issue
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The Silence
Josh Oldham
The fog rolls in around my ankles
Obscuring my feet
Leaving me unsteady,
More so than I already am
The gentle billowing purity of the far up cloud
Lost as it comes closer to the dampened earth
Changing into gray nothingness
Slowly it swirls around
And I catch a glimpse of my feet
But never enough to help me steady myself
The swirling patterns
All too much for my contorted mind
Leaving all the thoughts jumbled
Taking away the little balance I have
Cautiously wisps of the ghostly fog
Wrap themselves around my legs
And begin to work their way upward
Dragging me down
Trying to pull me down into its entirety
Gripping my wrists
And crushing my chest
Pouring into my body
Suffocating
Consuming my cries
Before they can leave my tongue