I want real.

silent nights and beers in hands,

air filled with illusionary ideas and hopes,

drowning in the moment given,

we hold one another's hand -

promising better tomorrow.

 

my oh my, am I getting tired of this lie?

he will go to work,

and stare at phone waiting for the miracle -

it seems better tomorrow is yet to come.

 

can I blame myself or should I blame the world

for my restlessness?

I drank many beers to make illusions real,

for at least one night to convince myself,

that I will find a way to give my heart away.

only to find out - 

now I'm just tired of all the lies we told

throughout those nights

I don't want him to feed my ego -

I want someone to destroy it -

I want real - may it not be what I hoped for.

 

Reviews

[Valentine]

Sometimes real will end up more than we bargained for. Valentine