2 com


It's true I'm disillusioned 
Confused as to how the truth eludes them
They're deluded
All of them
All the women, children and men
All their pets and their friends
The opinions they think make sense 
The fights with no end
Their unused pens and fashion trends when all these clothes do is distract me and you 
From that empty space within where a personality should have stayed or been

On the surface they're content and I can't blame them
I may just be the protagonist of a comatose dream
Where I'm a hero and I save the world 
And I get the girl
That's why I'm right
Because I have to be
That's how you write those pathetic stories
The Good Guy always wins
And I'm The Good Guy
I think

Or are all these links non-existent
Just made to validate my existence
Because I really want to be real
I really want to exist
But not in this

Not in this cesspool of untruths and half truths and truths which aren't true
Where the only truths you can be sure of are the truths of your youth
You were never wrong then
Despite your failures and the misplaced allure of the future (it would rupture)
Despite the rusting lives recycled for efficiency
Despite this
You were right
You were The Good Guy

But now you've stepped outside and now 
You suffocate in a chorus of what they say 
My porous brain can only take so much forced decay
I wish for the haven of a home a vacuum of locked doors
Where no thoughts could escape and where I could do no wrong
And then I realised that this place was heaven
And then I realised that this place was prison 
(still heaven)

The envy caressed me gently
And I wished to be deluded
Removed from the truth
To resume the view of the illusions 
I once knew

I wish to assume happiness.