Bright Eyes

i dreamt of a fever,
one that would cure me of this cold, winter set heart.
with heat to melt these frozen tears and burned with reasons
as to carry on.
into these twisted months i plunge without a light to follow
but i swear that i would follow anything
just get me out of here.
and so you get six months to adapt
and you get two more to leave town.
in the event that you do adapt, we still might not want you around.
and i fell for the promise of a life with a purpose
but i know that's impossible now.
and so i drink to stay warm
and to kill selected memories