I wonder if she knows she's losing me,
My best friend reads my messages and forgets to reply,
Just as I scream out 'I want to die'
And I wonder if she knows how close she is to losing me.

I swallowed a box full of pills,
Swished a glass of whiskey in my mouth.
Still I haven't been allowed my easy out.
Every message I send feels like rocks in the pockets of the drowning,
I only sink ever deeper into this dark.
If I felt joy maybe I could smile at her jokes, her attempts at distraction,
But all I feel is this weight in my chest,
The weight of a heart that can never rest.

She tries to remind me of God,
of the love I should let surround me,
But I am incapable of comprehending an ethereal kind if love when even human affection remains a mystery to me.
How can I feel His love when I don't even feel worthy of human love,
When I reject the love of creatures that are here and palpable to me?

I wonder if she knows she's losing me.  
Can she see how hard I'm trying to let go of the dark parts?
Can I still have a best friend if I have no soul or heart?
And I wonder if she can tell that she has already lost me.

i never knew a love like this
to hold you skin to skin
heart to heart

i can feel your breath
against my chest
and feel your warmth

i feel my heart expanding
to love so fully and completely
without expectations

i am so grateful for meeting you
heart to heart

It won't stop for a minute,
It won't keep pace if you slow down,
I didn't need more proof of its insanity,
When I realised,
This world keeps spinning, around

The puppeteers are above us,
Directing this show,
As we play and dance upon this stage,
Our limbs swinging as they go.

We sway with their movements,
We are pulled on our strings,
We move how they want,
Yet none notice a thing.

These bright red lines,
Right in our faces,
Make us do what we “desire,”
Make us go many places.

Aside from our limbs,
What they really control,
Is the brain in our heads,
Taking us whole.

Make us think we like this,
Make us think we like that,
Make us think we’re wrong if we don’t,
Make us think we’re nothing but ****.

Even though I see,
Even though I know,
I am still attached to these strings,
I cannot make them go.

If I were to tug them away,
Right out of their hands,
I’d be seen as wrong,
Not following their unseen demands.

So I will continue to dance,
I will continue to sway,
I will continue this act,
Until the right day.

We claim to know what is reality;
What is real,
What is fake,
What is possible,
What is not.

But how does one know?

After all, what is it to see?
What is it to feel?
What is it to hear?
What is it to smell?
What is it to taste?

It is to experience.

The colors we observe,
The surfaces we can touch,
The sounds we can pick up on,
The scents that reach our noses,
The flavors that hit our tongues-

That is reality.

It is everything that we can perceive,
Everything that we can comprehend,
Everything that we can think of,
Everything that we process.
This may be reality,

But is reality real?