Reality Bites

A realist, but I can’t deal with reality. Isolating myself at home, waiting for someone to look, find me.

Hide and seek past time, breathing and waiting to die, what is the space that lies between, please define this enigma for me.

The who, what, and why. It's taken me this long to realize. I’m a dreamer, nothing more, a player in my own mind, the worst kind. The ability, left somewhere in my past, gone, too far behind.

Do you have a prophecy for me, a diagnosis for my debilitating disease, a prognosis for my well-being, something I can count on, restore a sense of feeling?

Reality bites, and it's taken a pound of flesh, chewed it up, and spit it out, my heart and mind are such a mess. I’m running out of time, running out of places to hide.

Unable now to even escape myself, the ones in my head, know the only solution that will help. Exposed for what I am, caught in my fantasy life, striped of all the lies, abandoning the will to fight.

Reality comes one last time to say good-bye, to laugh at me, while like a little boy I cry. To kick me while I’m down, to frighten off any help that may be left hanging around.

Ridiculing my moral, mortal remains, as if to say, you knew who I was the first time you came. This is your reward, losing the game.

Choke on your pride, and ignore the pain, reality bites, and these things will never, ever, change...