I'm living in second hand minutes,
jumping to all chances and conclusions
like Hickory Dickory Dock.
Repetition no longer occurs
when I want it to.
Floating
in-and-out of reality,
we twist one another
to form capability.
Why is it I cannot be me,
and you cannot be you?
Fill in the gaps
and you've got a perception.
I cannot survive
it seems
without denying myself
...myself.
We are puppets to each other.
We've lost the luxury
of thinking for ourselves.
As long as we live
like this
we can feel free-
a sinister deception.
After all this time,
I think I've actually become
what you've trained
and twisted
me to be.
This is where we forget ourselves.
...This is where we lose our souls.
Author notes
MMMMM banana splits
Adding your comment: