B R E A T H E

m y t h

a blind man who wishes
to drown in colors

a madman who dreams
of bathing in clouds

a stranger with wild eyes
and fading bruises

a beggar who eats away his skin instead of the bread people offer him

all these people
i don't know how to not notice

i see the madness that is
hidden underneath their fragile frames
but i also see suffering

dogs bark when they hear something that humans can't

sometimes i think i am like that too
seeing what others can't
hearing the wailing of the breeze

sanity is a myth

seeing people breathing the same intoxicated air as me comforts me

but not when they haunt my dreams
and scare my nights

as i find myself remembering every detail of their face even after
a day, month or week of encountering them

dreams are just dreams
except when they're not

it's a coping mechanism
to think about the pain
the world has to offer

i see it
i absorb it and then
i replay it in my head

to forget about my own horrors that possess me and twist me like a ragdoll

the screams that leave me are empty and so are the echoes

maybe i do this to myself
maybe it's all in my head
maybe i am insane

but then again, who isn't?

sanity is a myth

and the only thing that is real
is the delusion people have about being anything but mad

but that's a paradox on its own

i am looking for answers
but i know to clear the blurred line
i need only look in the mirror

and when i do
i think of drowning the girl
staring at me in acid

which is not that different from wanting to bathe in clouds

or is it?