i don't want to reach out for dreams
because they might underwhelm me
but the unexciting reality
itself grows expressly underwhelming

it's better to have love
than to lose it all pursuing phantasm
always grateful but too young to be choosing
to live in contempt or indulge in bad habits

to shed my hesitation
and finally go rabid
does the real thing feel this good
after you've had it?

i don't know and i won't ever
if i keep myself in check
i like being here with us together
it's just so easy to get swept

up by ideals
and things so contingent of following ungrounded reverie
i come home to you for all that is
i'm not heartless in my revelry