And you'll wake up in the middle of the night not feeling anything. The pain in your stomach is gone. The lump in your throat ceases. Body's painless and light. And you feel very fine. Charged and hyped up.
You go downstairs, opened the fridge and looked for something to munch. You find yourself settling on some chocolates, cookies and some bananas. You take every piece as if it was your first food ever. Chugged down the coldest water you've ever had as it fills you in.
Contented, you go back upstairs. You placed yourself on that large black leather sofa. Admiring its every angle. Touching its every edge. And how hot you seem to recline on that piece of furniture only wearing boxer shorts.
The euphoria. That drugged-up feeling as you stare into the rotating ceiling. Shifting into some different shapes. And the light that glows on the corner being eaten by the colors painted across the walls. And your head spin. And you're being fooled by your senses. And you see the image of that person sitting beside you. With expression hard to read. With voice inaudible. And you feel warm. Hot. Cold. With that burning sense in the middle of your gut. And you sweat yourself and gave into the narcotic on that one rainy night.
"Mom, brother's on the couch. He's sweating so bad. He's burning with fever.."
Delirium.Labels: original, poetry, self