Sometimes,
I would like to rest my eyes;
take a deep breath;
enter my sarcophagi.
My happy time machine.

Awaiting for the time
where I
would find myself happy,
and only happy.

Gone of the days:
When I treat my lungs like a chimney.
When I poison myself up to my limit.
When I get hurt because of love.
And when I would gaze upon myself
in the mirror,
I would find myself,
to be the man that I wanted to be.

Wish.
I could only wish.
My time capsule seems to be busted.
It used to work,
but it is now rusted.
Exhausted.
Exhausted, of being exhausted.
Exhausted, of being myself.
Exhausted, of existing.
But with enough wishful thinking,
I think I would arrive at my destination.
Someday-----
I wish sunflowers never wilt.