fever or forgotten wings |
title is a quote from a pablo neruda poem entitled "poetry" |
there is a fake sense of beauty,
only because of the position of the sun in the sky.
things look perfect, seem perfect.
we are in a bowl, a haven.
we have shut out the outside world.
cigarette after cigarette,
the smoke catches in the wind and trails away.
laughter, happiness, peace.
but we all turn, and go our separate ways.
and the world creeps back in.
and the sadness creeps back in.
and the pain creeps back in.
and i realize that okay feeling was false.
i just swallow another pill and try to forget.
close my eyes.
sleep forever.
how i wish to not wake up.
