A Continuous Illusion Poem by Cheyenne Rhon

I'm in a continuous illusion,
Closing my eyes does not mean I rest.
I enter my other world of delusions,
Where abnormalities are not oppressed.

I join familiar acquaintances,
In obscene, sporadic activities,
Unaltered in my mind of transience.

I travel nomadic-like for festivities,
And surroundings that don't make sense.
Ornamented costumes are necessary;
Contact with strangers can be intense.
The sequence of events may vary..

Incessant chatter subsides,
My head aches with dark lines under my eyes.