Connect the dots
And wavering lines
Make them look better
And seem stronger
But isn't that just appearance?
A connection we can see
Just what's on the surface
We can't see if it's really there
We don't really know
We rarely do
Which is why we say
We're all geniuses
Is faking knowledge
Smarter than really knowing?
Or is it just real
Just fake
I, for one, don't really know
I never do these days
Because these days themselves
Don't even know anymore
What is up, and down
And inside out
Is it fake? Real?
I can't tell
Truths and lies are spider's webs
Laced fingers
Lolling heads
Lazy afternoons
Stressed nights
Love
Loss
Fear
Delight
A winter's day
A summer's night
Ideals, endeavors
Hopes and dreams
Wishes, hearts
And ripping seams
I could never sew
Very well
That wasn't me
And it never will be
I'm running out of characters
We have a limited amount
Now, you see
Because sometimes it's just too much
For all us geniuses.