A Rant
As people, we spend so much time protecting ourselves from harm, but what happens when you protect yourself from the good in your life as well?
There’s been this question on my mind
Most times I don’t know how to ask it
Because to me, it carries a power
A power that scares me
Terrifies me honestly,
And not because I know the answer
But because I fear
that maybe
Maybe neither of us do
The question being, was this real?
Was I real?
Was I real to you?
But how should I know for certain?
How?
You see, here’s what I do know
I know of your cries
Of desperation and of regret
Of solidarity and neglect
I know of your efforts to drown it out
To hide all signs of possible decline
So I guess what I mean to ask is
How real was I to you,
when I was being drowned out
Like the rest of your troubles?
How real was I to you when I kissed you
But you were hardly there?
How real was I to you?
You see, I keep playing this game of connect the dots
And at this point I'm begging for it to stop
Because I keep having these thoughts
On what it meant
To be with me
About the Creator
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