In my hand is a puddle of pretty pink pills.
I hold them up to my shaky lips.
To be away,
trapped in emptiness.
It's the most selfish thing I will ever do,
but I still smile as they begin to work their magic.
I no longer have a sense of being stuck.
My nerves in every part of my body have been transformed into clouds.
When I walk I know my feet must be on the ground,
because I can see them.
But I am gliding.
I am a cloud.
I could fly away and live in the sky,
but I am a tired cloud.
The sleepy fog fills my head and forces me to lay.
But one day,
I'll sail higher than any cloud ever.
