Illusion

A short poem

my skin tingles against a solid form of comfort
my mind lingers,
my head feels heavy
and the inner me exits through my pores
i hear nothing,
because i refuse to listen
and my eyes are blind with pity
but i see through the facade of the beautiful existence
to the infinite pain of love
and i realize,
that life is just a precursor to the misery i've yet to endure
and i see hope
as no hope at all
but i welcome the illusion-