Since when did a
"I'm feeling well"
Turn into a
"I'm functioning"?
All I can see is grey and white,
But there's no black because
It's all inside of me.
It's forming
A vast black sea.
And I don't dare to call it infinite,
But
At the moment it doesn't look like
The sound of chirping birds will
Ever pick me up again
From the ground I'm lying on
And allow me to imagine how
Great it must be to fly
(Now i'm thinking less of flying and more of falling).
Now it doesn't make me think
Anymore.
Only feel.
Feeling despair has become
A common practice that I am used to
Even more
Than waking up
At 8 o'clock
And
Brushing my teeth
And doing laundry
And not crying every 10 minutes
Because I'm a waste of space
That shouldn't have the right
To be alive
(Indeed those things seem to be of terrible difficulty now).
The birds continue chirping
With no care about the human world,
Ignorantly waking people up
At 5 a.m.
They don't care about the man
Working night shifts to keep his family alive
Or the woman who just got home from a 'date'
Where she had to do things she didn't want to.
The birds don't care, don't
Know
And that's probably
How
They continue to be happy
(Even I was happy once, a happy little bird).
In the past their songs reminded me of
The sky, the forests and green planes covered with flowers,