The Trespasser

Dreams are strange places,
The stranger they get,
The stranger I am to myself.

It feels like I am trespassing in someone else’s mind,
I am almost trying to hide, be invisible in my own mind.

Dreams I dream are in particular surreal,
The things I think and feel during waking state,
They become too real as if that is the real real.

If the light from the key hole is the waking state,
Dreams are the fully wide open doors.

How distastefully cruel,

To feel like an outcast in your own subconscious,

In the big shop, everything unaffordable only for you,
How everyone is beautiful except for you.

Walk away from the place, but the path gets steeper,
Danger lies ahead as you climb down the rough path that you know you so deserve.

No-one you can recognize,
You need to rely on yourself,
But that’s the scariest part, Isn’t it ?
Are you capable to be relying on yourself ?

It is true indeed,
Dreams are strange places,
The stranger they get,
The stranger you are to yourself.


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