What do you do when you realize your life as you know it is a cardboard cutout, a dollhouse scene, Of what your life should be. Of what it once was.
The people in my life are characters A backdrop in the place of reality. Scenery behind my doorstep. Photographic fire in the fireplace. Tiny kitchen cutlery that isn’t sharp. Staged people in my living room at literally, a lifeless party. A fantastic picturesque magazine spread in Southern Living.
And I am a part of this falseness. I am a creator of this un-reality. I am a willing participant in this stagnant stage of my life.
This life, this love, this truth Is a figment Is a dream Is a scene of a scene.
I remember when green was green And blue was blue And I breathed in newness in every breathe. Reality bowed down in servitude And I took every step into a setting sun The world around me, my partner in crime As I took it by storm.
The tragedy here Is knowing that life and love and truth barren Is knowing it naked As it really is. As it really was.
And knowing that you’ve settled for the cardboard cutout is recognizing you’ve given up. You’ve settled for second best. You’re taking the doll house route to life. You’d rather watch the movie than live it out. It’s cowardice at its best.