You are a fragment of my imagination or part of my crazy creative mind.
I haven't every really tested the theory if you really do exist.
Yet each day you come back in my dreams from both day and night,
then you sit by me.
Maybe I'm prone to living with the imaginary things,
yet I like it that way.
You must be real as you touch my hand and speak so clearly,
yet they always call you my imaginary friend,
I won't admit that I talk to people who they say don't exist,
but without these creative thoughts
I'd go crazy,
wild in the pursuit of finding something to fill up my minds void before the dark thoughts slip through.
Oh my word I finally admitted the truth and maybe after all when they called me crazy they were right after all.
Yet I'd never ask for my creative world of my own to cease to exist.
This is me living in two world,
then three because one is perceived as real and the other imaginary,
then the third a world of a writers mind.
Secretly I believe in your existence no matter what they say.
YOU ARE READING
Trio Of Words
PoetryPoetry from the corner of my little world. Another freestyle poetry book. "You finally saw that I was a puzzle piece that wasn't complete, but aren't we all when our emotions fall?" "So these are all things that keep playing back to me in poetry. A...
