where we write it

Be an Illusion

‘I wanna be an illusion, I’m sure I’ll be feeling alright, …  just to be an illusion.


every1 wants,. 2be .. be.. be,

it happens by itself.

I’m on the edge of  that hole.

If I let myself go, I fall

I’ll be there; I want nothing else.

dying while asleep, wont feel it, won’t know it’s coming… 

realization is the pain… don’t you want to forget.?

falling asleep is the best part.  could my soul vanish as I type this . word….

didn’t happen,  I wont know it if it happened.  fair

  why started it, and I mean the existence, if you weren’t aware .


Am I the only one this way,…

Wrinkled eye brows, tension in face, shaken hands, serious, awake, lost  and stressed.

Hate inside, ” show it. “

Confined  released to the people, confined by interactions

Not shallow but isolated.   Valueless even if existence matters, because I’m not existent.

I need a me that’s persistent.  A “trustworthy” brain that walked out on me couple of times. 

Going into water where I’ve seen him drown before.

 no lesson;  to swim this still lake you just don’t;   stay still.

 by his own..   save him if he drowns. it’s a shallow lake.

 he wants to be an illusion;  I already am.

I know I’ll leave him sooner or later…

connection is the memory, to carry, not feel.

I’m close to him.  he’s right here with me,  his hand with me..

No memory man. He doesn’t live the past. He doesn’t know me.

Sometimes I get really close,   like … who the f*k I am .

Then, he says he’s not living the future.

he’s there still.  doesn’t need me, because…  present.  

Just like that, time ticks what we live every second. 

Damn his existence gives me a headache.

 he’s kind and empty. 

Waiting though man I hate waiting, 

but he’s waiting there look at him.. peacefully.

not from the inside;  I know he’s burning.

He’s me;  I told you he wants time to pass.  He thinks he will travel the end faster. 

  I don’t really know him, but  he said  that I’m the only one who does,  

I leave, he falls.   what am I supposed to say?

Feet kicking, no whistle. 

He wants to break, sitting on that edge. 

I’ll let you understand, dear reader think about not thinking,

 when you lose me,  try to reach anyone you love.

When no response comes, and they just stand where taught ’em. 

He wants to expose himself thoroughly.  He wants to share his dairies. 

He is pretty confined in people’s interactions.

I’m beside him still,  distracting my illusion further.






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