Sitting, walking

Even just being-

Swathed in my illusionary pretence

Of everything’s alright,

My world is solid, and whole

And not falling to pieces.

Sitting with eyes closed

Not noticing, unaware

Seeing imagined images

Behind closed lids. Futile wishes

Of a world which will never exist.

Hearing fictional voices

Conversational, everything’s fine

Hiding from the light

Eyes moving, darkness abounds

Behind closed lids. Open only

In the depths of night,

Murky images swirling around me

Vague, indistinct scenes

Darkness is a wall, a curtain

Hiding my real world from me, so

I can relax in this delusion.

Awake all night, and more

Awake all day, no less

Wandering blankly, everything white,

So light, the light side

Not my side. In the stark daylight

Revealing everything I run from

All my fabrications, lying to myself

My imagined worlds, all cease to exist

Daylight, nightlight, washed-out worlds

Of my own. A chimera

Is all it was… and although

I am forced to face reality, I would rather

Hide behind closed lids

Reclusive in my darkness

Isolated in my imagined existence.