The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

Would you dig a tunnel to me -
one that's wide enough for you -
so you can reach me through this distance?
Prove to me I matter, too.

And would you walk from end to end,
in the dark and all alone,
just to touch me one more time,
or see just how much I have grown?

I have laid a road to you.
Many times I've wandered on it.
I can never find the end.
I guess I'm just a hypocrite