iii. where i go when i am sleeping

i used to complain about how hard it was to tell real from fake

but it truly was a privilege; i simply failed to realize this.

what i wouldn’t give to just sleep through my whole life!

even though she is just as beautiful in my dreams

and you are every bit as perfect

at least i could finally live with ‘myself’–

if only a shell of what i used to be, 

that’d be a whole lot more than i am now.

(this is the third poem in a mini collection i wrote, but it's probably my favourite and it works okay as a standalone poem i think! and the title is inspired by the casey album)