I can feel the air filling gaps like liquid; sludge-ing between sand and stone, impeding intuition: "I can't... I feel alone." It's alive... IT'S ALIVE! Hacking into my system, suppressing my mind.
Restricting my breaths, compressing my chest, like circled arms on bench vices.
Conducting factual mirage with emotive direction; I can't see clear. Its effects affect affect; its damage direct.
A lead based fog stamped flat under pressure; vacuum sealed rounding landscapes and textures; gray paint and powder coat and dilute all that pleasures. Dissociation oils my feathers. It's holding me down.