This world is bright, vivid and full of colors
where everyone is alive and seem dead.
But every night for a few seconds
I vanish from this universe,
and visit another planet.
A little joy every night.
This world is dark, dull and grey
where everyone is torpid and happy.
Every night I secretly rose
on the back of Morphine.
Everynight I am a little ecstatic
away from woes.
But this world is surreal and does not last
because I leave too fast
even though I want to stay.
And I find myself awake,
with a tourniquet around my arm,
and a needle in my hand.
And I see burnt paper, stubs,
fancy bottles and drips of my blood.
Then I throw the syringe away
and it clinks against its sisters.
YOU ARE READING
The shark
PoetryThe shark does have tears running on his face, but he lives in the water so you don't see them and so comes the oceans to be salty.
