I fell off of cloud nine today.
Everyone talks about cloud nine,
but they rarely talk about those
other clouds.
Right now, I'm on cloud thirty-seven,
after making an error in judgement.
Cloud thirty-seven is not quite as enjoyable
Thirty seven is slate tinted and full of regrets.
It's as if everything has been covered in a haze
of negativity. It reeks of rejection and failure.
The people here look like lifeless shells. I wonder
what I look like to them.
The worst part, I think, about cloud thirty-seven
is that I can still see cloud nine quite clearly. I can
still see everyone up there smiling blissfully, save
for the few who are looking down at me with pity.
Faces stare at me almost smirking, as if the same thing
could never happen to them.
I can look up at cloud nine and it seems so far away.
It's not unreachable, mind you, but I know all the
blood and sweat
expended to get up there previously was for nothing.
I know that to get back up there requires the same
repetitive ******** that I've been through
so many times before.
Even if I manage to land back on cloud nine, I'm always
just a single mistake from falling from it yet again..
I've been here to thirty-seven enough times where it is
becoming uncomfortably familiar.
I fear of becoming complacent.
Perhaps I'm fooling myself. Maybe I need to stop aspiring
for cloud nine and pick a different one.
Cloud 28 might be nice.
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 7:44 PM UTC
I fell off of cloud nine today.
Everyone talks about cloud nine,
but they rarely talk about those
other clouds.
Right now, I'm on cloud thirty-seven,
after making an error in judgement.
Cloud thirty-seven is not quite as enjoyable
Thirty seven is slate tinted and full of regrets.
It's as if everything has been covered in a haze
of negativity. It reeks of rejection and failure.
The people here look like lifeless shells. I wonder
what I look like to them.
The worst part, I think, about cloud thirty-seven
is that I can still see cloud nine quite clearly. I can
still see everyone up there smiling blissfully, save
for the few who are looking down at me with pity.
Faces stare at me almost smirking, as if the same thing
could never happen to them.
I can look up at cloud nine and it seems so far away.
It's not unreachable, mind you, but I know all the
blood and sweat
expended to get up there previously was for nothing.
I know that to get back up there requires the same
repetitive ******** that I've been through
so many times before.
Even if I manage to land back on cloud nine, I'm always
just a single mistake from falling from it yet again..
I've been here to thirty-seven enough times where it is
becoming uncomfortably familiar.
I fear of becoming complacent.
Perhaps I'm fooling myself. Maybe I need to stop aspiring
for cloud nine and pick a different one.
Cloud 28 might be nice.
Meh.
Request permission to use this poem