Tick tick tick
The clock ticks endlessly on this quiet night.
I can't read the time though.
I can't see the numbers.
I can't see the notches.
For some reason I can just tell it's about to go off.
Did I even sleep last night?
I can't tell.
I can't tell where I've been the past month.
Am I even home?
Am I anywhere at all?
Ding Dong
The clock rings and the house is awoken.
The only problem is that nobody wakes up.
Stuck in bed.
Stuck with the constant thoughts of the night prior.
The thoughts.
The
Thoughts
Which ones?
Fuck.
Somehow the nightmare crept into reality and the opening of my door is now this void of darkness.
Though I can hear the screams.
I can feel the pain.
My minds eye suddenly tells me that I'm alone again.
If I step through that door I can be with people, but at a cost.
What cost?
The cost of being happy.
People or happiness?
At this point it ends up in the same place.
Sad and alone.
Only realizing that you'll never really have a forever will you actually begin to live.
Right?
Maybe.
I can't tell.
Maybe I was always alone and I couldn't tell myself.
Fuck.
YOU ARE READING
Dreams Over Reality
PoetryA compliation of poems and skits. The skits are no longer being continued. Most poems are about me and the events around me. Read my story This is my story.
