Like being underwater,
Voices are garbled and faces waver.
For this night my world is “happy”.
Whatever that means, really,
But there’s a smile on my face,
And nothing morose enters
The bitter-sweet catacombs inside my head
Just the music and the safety of noise
From people seeking this word “happy”,
Much like me…
There’s a certain comradery here.
This sweet state of cheerful oblivion
Is known as “erasing tapes”.
Tomorrow,
When I wake to the too bright sun,
Memory will be killed off a bit more
Until one day, in the end,
I will have given myself a lobotomy
And die peacefully in my sleep
Unaware that I was ever unhappy at all.
The Orchid Room 
A beautiful reflective poem, staring into the bottom of your glass. You sound like you need to dance. Mimi, may I have the honour of accompanying you on a tiny twirl round the floor?
There’s a smile on my face too, Mimi… I burnt sugar for that bitter sweet aftertaste. (((((((((((((((((((((((hugyou))))))))))))))))). This is wonderful and dark Garbo-esque beauty.
I’ll take the dance & the hug! Thank you for the thumbs up. – Mimi.
haunting, beautiful, I really love your writing, Mimi, it really gets inside my head!
And this morning, I offer you a walk in the frosty woodland. Crisp and hard underfoot, the purest air laced with the silvery call of a lone blackbird. So good for clearing the head and plaiting smiles from spiderwebs. Lovely writing.
oh my…let’s hope the surgeon has been delayed a bit and the memory of something better comes and then a wake up in a satin bed still singing…(I don’t know what, but maybe you could look through you song collection…) 🙂