Nothing. It has all faded away; the way a dream ends –
You’re awoken without warning.
You create an entire biosphere within your mind; and although it lasts approximately thirty seconds –
It has fabricated a feeling.
And something inside you wants to carry on, because it has accumulated an increased comfort-
And that’s the hoax isn’t it.
The idea versus the reality.
On one hand we have a belief, and the other we have the truth.
But that’s the hoax isn’t it.
But where do dreams go when you’re awoken?
It felt like a lifetime.
I breathed your delusion-
I lived for the hallucination.
But now I have the accommodation of realism. Authenticity burned through my mind and there you were wondering where you will be placed. Authenticity burned through my fever and all I could taste was the lie. It dripped off my lips, asking to be spoken; I clipped my intentions in half –
And now I’m broken.
I tried to be something more than a theory; I wanted to be seemly . I tried to be someone I could love unconditionally because statistically I proved to be dwindling. I heard the signaling and the trumpets fade, the misery raids and all our recollections turn to grey. I couldn’t trust my ratings. I touch and it’s in flames. I touch and it becomes ash and clash, the pieces become particles and all these chronicles become a folklores best friend and I let the substance bar-tend to your needs, because I can no longer allow you to feed into my soul.
I used to be whole.
I used to be more.
Platonically wavering; you’re staggering in your essence but your presence doesn’t winder. It would have been simpler to allow the parade; you should have let me minister this crusade. Let me squander your grenade before you hold me accountable for everything I’ve never done. Before you were able to blame it on love.
“Don’t overestimate me.”
The minute you believe I’m faultless – I’m forced to be.
But I want my flaws to remain at rest. They’re the only pieces of me that I have left.
Yet, that’s the hoax isn’t it?
You almost never know when a part of you is gone.
So I allow myself the slumber,
I allow myself the bind.
I allow myself delusion if reality isn’t kind.