comfortable truths and painful lies

every night, once i get into bed,

i have nightmares that i fear will come to pass

and dreams that i know never will.

but ultimately, neither of them matters.

they are just dreams after all,

and i only cling to them in fear of reality.

dreams are the only things i can call my own,

but even my dreams i can’t escape,

with how much i wish their lies were true.

so in the end, i let those lies define me,

because the truth would only destroy me.

my dreams are destroying me just the same,

and they don’t even have the common courtesy

to do it as fast as i want.