Mind Haven

Frustration creeps up and eats my brain. Thinking

becomes a pain. It's a constant fail

to have a thought that doesn't work.

A constant struggle to make a thought,

function properly.

Somehow that thought of homework becomes

what you ate for dinner last night or what you didn't eat.

How you ran in slow motion from death in a dream,

and how you swear its real.

So you insist on running to catch up with that dream,

as reality trails behind you. In a sense, you are a dream.

A made-up thing that seems real. The way you act in front of me,

isn’t how you act in front of your mom or girlfriend. So who are you?

I swear I saw you in a box labeled made in china, or maybe it was america

‘cause being authentic is too taboo here.

But then, I remember it's just a thought that I woke up to.

It's hard to fall asleep again, when you don't think where you are is real.

And yet, I fall asleep,

wanting the fantasies that change me.

Somehow being fake brings sinful happiness.

A false smile that can sustain any lie and it's what you have to do to get by.

Sleep, dream and work your way to the bottom. My closed eyes

try to erase the person I try to be in a world,

full of bar codes tattoed on peoples foreheads.