willfully blind
yet seeing it all
pretending
things are normal
when the truth is
normal is just
a bullshit veneer
where we rationalize
a series of
disappointments
instead of pursuing
actual happiness

another cycle
where every thought
is on escaping this
going nowhere
at full speed
ramming my skull
against the walls
uncertain if
i would prefer
my head or the bricks
to collapse first

my traitorous mind
points out
each and every
incongruity in
the exchange of
empty pleasantries
highlighting the
truths i try and
remain blissfully
ignorant of
because the reality is
i am not happy
with the ways of things
yet my opinion
means fuckall

sear the hazel
from my vacant stare
and let me pretend
the things i know
are not truthful
at least enough to
make it through
another day in this
purgatory of want
where nothing is
offered to satiate
the sullen pangs

i have nothing
left to give
just a fair exchange
of silent dismissals
as the weight of
bipolar ressonance
keeps me shackled
to the filthy floor
begging for scraps
for the everything
i have given away
without a second thought

all i ever asked for
was enough
but that was asking
for too much
so i stuff myself
on emptiness
tapping my cane
as i navigate this
pitch black city
of negligent exuberance
a blind beggar
wrapped in a cloak
of tattered painblossoms
pleading for a chance