Somewhere.
Between Wonderland and Oz
and the only tangible thing is sleep.
Desperation is a funny concept
Searching the profile,
the difference between light and dark,
color and absence there of,
sanity, depression, sickness and health.
Only to find your existence in the shadows,
In the mediocre fields, not here and not there.
Not happy, but not upset either.
Waiting for Jane to come TO ME.
Bringing ME a lock your hair.
Bitter?
Yeah, I am.
Will I let you haunt me forever?
Didn't intend on it, but that doesn't really matter, you seem to be doing an excellent job on your own.
Nothing seems real to me.
Not you, not your love, not your hand on my hand on my leg, in my bed.
And certainly not myself.
But, then again, I wasn't real to begin with.
You gave me this life
and expected me to run with it.
Heh, it wasn't accepted.
