there is a life dwelling inside that no longer exists
a haze so heartlessly tapered by the rusted fragments of reality
the only problem with dreams, i would say
is that to exist inside them only diminishes the self
for the absent minded prefer the imagined to the painful
and that is ok, if you’re wary
i am not wary
i am scared
the darkness deafens as the life i dreamt for myself
so vibrant compared to the life i find myself in
seems to oversaturate
your colours are so loud
they deafen the landscape
you can’t hear the trees for the birds
for the birds, pickup more birds
a cocks cuckoo might wake you
but can you still dream if you’re woke?
i am not woke
i am broke
and broken, soon, by the weight of the saturation
and the saturated sound of so many voices
saying nothing, nothing, so little
over and over again
drink, drink, drink to remember
this is what you wanted, boy
you’re living the dream
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