you are real –
as real as the sound of
keys clicking/clacking to
the beat of my words
strumming rapidly
out of my mind.
YAHOOOOO!
you are a fake –
a figment of my imagination.
the clatter of tapped keys
slowly fades away and so do
you. now, you’re just a spectre -
an illusion conjured up in a
drunken stupor.
you are neither real nor fake but a MIXTURE of both,
as you are made real by memories that are
INTANGIBLE in nature.
Filed under: sweat|blood|tears , poetry
