Was it real?
I can’t decipher the dream and my waking hours
Who were you to me?
If not a ghost, a muse, a redheaded fantasy
Forcing notions of quixotic idealism
Of a love to struggle and strive for
Did I imagine the scores of fireworks
The bellies rampid with butterflies
Maybe I invented you
Maybe you’re just a convenience, a substitution
A lie that I needed to believe in
Well I’m done with fairytales that don’t deliver
I want reality, the sweet and the sour
I want the scary and the real and the messy
I want truth
I want love
Truth and Lies
Posted in Poetry
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