I settled in a chair
With my Long short black hair
Staring at fake faces
Lost in a bloated space

Filling the circles in my head
Popping out of distance
I could not see
What it seems to be

Will it be my past
Pained by childhood trust
Or a hollow dark dreamy time
Engraved in my scars since nine

Will it be my present
Confused by the blue moment
Or morning craving for a heart to lean
Concieved today at seventeen

Will it be my future
Fuelled by all necessary means
Or burned through a spark of fire
From the woods I came since birth

When my alarm clock rings
Who I see
Where I belong
What was
Will be
Because this is the beauty of
Why i wake up to reality