We have the choice
To make experiences our own
So we do
Creating, fabricating, inventing
better ideals than we have

We are given the power to lie
To synthesize
What we are given
Our realities
We choose to lie

We pick out the thread of
“I wanted this all along”
Spinning and spinning it
Until we are believed

We fool ourselves, our closest companions
Into settling, compromising
And we are not to blame
The alternative?
Miserable honesty
Sufferable affirmations that yes,
“It really is that bad”

We have the choice
To be warriors
To pretend we do not hurt
To not notice we are bleeding
And while greeting the pain
Welcoming it into your home
with a hug and an opportunity to kick off its shoes
While this acknowledgment is freeing
A liberating defiance
To do so continually is overbearing
leaves you drowning in truth
and raw waves of unmet expectations

So as it is
We have a choice
To synthesize
The dirt before our feet into carpets of woven gold
To fabricate
Our own palaces within mediocre routine
To lie and create
and fight
the hand which we were dealt
With all we've got
Which isn't much
So we choose
To synthesize