i've resorted
pinching myself
in moments of uncertainty.
am i alive?
am i dreaming?
am i anything?
is this real?
questions
of existance
i makea my heart ache
and leave red marks
on my skin
just to know
is this real?
am i actually with you
was that smile really mine
in those moments of today
in hours, minutes, seconds...
pain seems to bring me back.
and i'm the tall tale fairy tale
in a worn out
forgotten book
that the librarians have decided
to give away for free
and it sits
and it sits
and it's lost, forgotten, not wanted
and it moves on
to some celestial recycling plant
to become something else
reincarnation,
but it all comes back down to
is this real
or am i just dreaming
because i am that forgotten
unlucky worn down book
and if someone gives me a chance
a read
i want to know.
pinching
is a test.