Can freedom medicate the grey away? It sounds like symphonies when spilt from my lips but I’m having a little difficulty swallowing the pill whole. They smile with it though. Their mouths crack and spread like distant patronizing ghouls. “Aren’t I quaint,” they think, “look at her optimism, all alone.” Weighted by their simple thoughts that they pretend are hard, they forget to remind me to find a man like it’s a treasure hunt. “Just find the X and lose the V,” they chuckle like over plumped turkeys who cannot comprehend the ugly ducklings Thanksgiving feast. They are chosen quick and fast. It doesn’t bother them. I do not know if I have lost the treasure map or if I have seen fool’s gold in the chest. I do not want to be bought with counterfeit currency but I do not want to gather anymore dust upon my shelf. If I jump now can I miss the hunt, the feast, the purchase, and find the road instead? Will I run on happy or drown in misery?



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