Real.

Overcast days win again. It's gorgeous today though. I'll be back in proper form again soon.

Real.

Right between the first time and the last.

That shocking moment it becomes the past.

A minute after everything becomes new.

A breath before it's really happening to you.

Then it's real.

         You're allowed to feel.

                    And nothing was ever true.

                           They say it's real, but whoever really knew?

When each soft feeling is far too much.

It hurts as if the most savage touch.

A sideways glance imparts an injury.

One subtle movement rewrites history.

Then it's why.

        You're allowed to cry.

                And nothing was ever real.

                        They say it's real, but who ever really feels?

Sleep becomes a beloved, welcome enemy.

When seconds lost are a decades long tragedy.

A whispered word supplies every last breath.

And one touch so quiet now shouts of death.

Then it's clean.

         You're allowed to scream.

                    And nothing was ever lies.

                           They say it's real, but who ever really cries?