Waking up from a long overrated coma

Waking Up From A Long Overrated Coma.

I experience some hard turbulence
while having my third drink when it hits me.
I let myself surrender to the feeling,
very rapidly the memories take over.

The alarm clock is pointless once again.
Why did I torture myself?
I should have treasure the extra fifteen minutes
in which the world stopped the moment you opened your eyes.

I should have known I was one of the lucky ones
the moment you ceased to be an stranger for me.
Our souls and bodies mixed so hastily
I didn’t have time to recover myself from the awakening.

The mundane morning meal magically metaphors
into an unforgivable experience.
An extra dose of caffeine was present
with no double servings of coffee.

You were that melody that followed me around all day
into my deepest dreams, reveling my most precious secrets.
You were, of course, the brightest color I could see,
no matter what season I was on.
The music room never felt alive after you.

Now I’m down on hands and knees,
I’m suffocating.
I’m choking for air.
I’m trapped inside my self-form cycle of desperation.
In which you run around my mind
causing undesired feelings over and over again.
This cycle that deprives me from sleeping at nights
and at the same times prevents me from getting up in the mornings.
Like the lights are eternally flashing
and my blankets have been sawed to my mattress.
I’m back on one of the biggest snowstorms
trapped inside my 2X2 bedroom,
trapped in a place where time never stops,
hearing nothing for the first time in my life.

After 240 days of extreme fatigue and the flight of self awareness,
I am raising my glass up high and I’m using this scrap of paper.
I’m putting an end to this chapter of my life,
probably the most exciting one.