dreaming.


You are all that I have.
Well, I don't know if that is true.
Yet it is somehow all I seem to know.
I know that
I find myself being stomped on these days
By friendly masks with long brunette hair.
Yes, I know that
I am quite naive.
I am realizing some things
That I should have seen before.
I know that
This is confusing me.
I don't know
If my head is just making this up,
Along with all of the other what ifs
That whisper in my ears at midnight.
I don't know what is real.
Is she real? Or am I her doormat?
Are you real? Or am I just that much pitiful?
You must be real.
You are always filling up my glass when it is half-empty.
You look at me with amazement in your eyes.

But still.
You really are so..
different?
I don't know.
You are so much like a dream.
Oh yes, you are a dream.
So much alike that
I sometimes fear
That one cold, empty morning
I will open my eyes
for you to have gone and just
disinigrated
As if you were my wildfire
Keeping me warm and occupied.
And then you died out.
You turn to nothing.
Leaving me here.
Leaving me here to wonder
If you were ever real.
How would I know?
What do I ever know?

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This Poems Story

Panic Attacks. Anxiety. Confusion.