Why do I still smoke cigarettes
Now that they make me sick to my stomach
This town is already suffocating me
It dies at midnight
As the city lights go out
The cherry of my cigarette goes dark
Nothing is genuine
And every street light that illuminates
The silent streets
Confirms my worst fears
Every living creature dies alone
I wish I didn't understand
Wish I could be ignorant again

How long has it been?
Did I sleep the storm away?
What time is it?*

A disorienting headache alarms me awake,
The wind at my back nudges me to life.
Hungover,
Culturally removed and it's all over again.

The past can't exist here,
Childhood memories are a fiction.
Friends are forgotten stories scattered,
About my brain like the workspace of a maniac.

Am I that far removed?
Have I grown enough that I don't fill the old space?
Such elation and sorrow combine in misery,
And it's hard to believe that home disappears.

I wish no one missed me like I don't.
The man you see standing in the same door frame,
He passed through at all ages,
He has new eyes that you won't recognize.
For they don't see the world like you do.

One last country,
One last break through the clouds,
One last chance to make myself right?

Does my stack of thoughts grow taller yet,
Through dreams of experiences I never regret?
And did home stand still while I was gone?
Life, I suppose, has to keep moving on.

This is not a poem
Nor a collection of words
This is a construct of society
You are not reading words
You are observing a collection of random markings and deriving meaning from them
The voices you hear are not talking
They are making random noises and you think they mean something
Take this into consideration and realize that either nothing is normal, or that everything is normal.