i want to believe-
believe that today and the next are not a patch of air floating between my fingers
that your hands feel something real and not a figure of my imagination
is this- me
i can see what is real but it slips through my fingers
chasing like a dream i will fall through
ghosts of days i want to forget haunt the ones that i need to remember
is this- me
giving up like a dream i don’t know what is real anymore
maybe will buy a firehouse
make a dream of this nightmare
Saint's Muse 