Thick Gray Lines
by beighartman
Somewhere in the middle
It becomes difficult
(Impossible)
To tell
Right from Left
And once consumed
There’s really no escaping—
At least, until,
The damage is done
Like a fog and underwater—
Still able to breathe
But unsure if it’s air—
Equilibrium thrown
Off/On?
Decisions suspect
Inhibitions to surely distrust
Questionably dubious—
Choices to be made—
Short supply/limited quantity
And are they even right?
