The Fog

The perfume bottles on my dresser
Are waiting for me to spill them
And my pink Converse
The ones with hearts drawn on the soles
Are anticipating the next time I trip over my own feet
Things are interesting here in the fog
Dreamy
But somehow
I still feel the blood pumping through my body each minute
As it rains today
I’m choosing to believe 
That I’ll be washed away at some point
And fall asleep on the forest floor
Until trees curl around me
And pull me into their tangle of roots
So I’ll vanish
And maybe that will be easier