For days, weeks, months, and on for years
I've contemplated about everything
that I owe to life,
and in turn what it owes to me.
I've spent days hoping,
but not finding;
dreaming,
but not seeing;
and feeling something,
that I know did not exist.
I lived in a fantasy world that
encapsulated me in a sort of bliss,
though I knew it was not reality.
I indulged myself in everything
that I knew should somehow be,
and yet would never become.
I feared fear.
I feared life.
I feared the truth.
It has always been unbearable thought
for me to live out of my bubble,
outside of my fantasy world...
For I have always known that reality
was painful and destructive.
It's tough on the mind,
and yet it caresses the soul,
So, what of that?
These contradictions?
These - perceptions of life?
Reality - the meaning of it?
What of that?
I wish I could get an answer without
the pain of experience,
and yet I know without experience,
I will never know.
So I tell myself to
step out into the golden sunlight
of true fate and destiny
and a thing they call reality.