Gray Colored Glasses

The sunshine peaking through the curtains

cast a gray glow on my eyes and covers

I squint as a dreadful feeling settles in

The saliva in my mouth tastes gray.

I rise, brush my teeth, and rinse my mouth

to wash it all away,

but it crawls to back of my throat

and drops down into my stomach.

It dwells there as I walk down the street

and the lines blur between grass and concrete.

The concrete devours the grass

and thumps against my feet

in slow, lethargic melodies

until someone whispers in my ear,

do you ever dream?

"I escape into the color of dreams,"

I reply.

It's where I dive into a deep blue sky

and rich hues of pink and orange engulf me

as if I've bounced into a stream.

and I plunge to the bottom

where I stroke clouds,

as solid as patches of grass.

and I would sigh,

"It feels nice to escape."

But bubbling beneath is the fear

of being lost in elation

where I transform into Icarus.

When I fly too close to the sun,

Fiery desire grabs me

to do something dangerous and risky

like fulfilling my wild urges and spending every penny

to dress in the illusion that my pockets are brimming

with champagne

only to explode in a black haze.

So, I fall out of the sky,

and out arise from the tricky waters

back under the claws of the gray

to continue on because

this is just one of those days.