False Coma

I started to get so disgusted with my drag of a life that I’d just sleep away time. 

I’d drift off to that hazy dreamland where sapphire skies stretched on forever and I could do as I pleased. 

My days were transformed into endless nights that made passing the time much easier. 

Sleep became my reality and reality became something from what seemed a past life. 

I was suffocating under a thick blanket of false coma and I didn’t mind.

Author's Note

This is a poem about being in depression's evil grasp. Let me know what you think!