I am trapped in this fantasy
the one that goes different
every time my head starts to spin.
One moment I am in need of you and
the next I am wishing for a moment to be free.
A fantasy of love,
a fantasy of a life of laughter,
a fantasy of a brighter morning.
But fantasies are not always good,
at moments that fantasy becomes too real,
my heart starts to pound,
my eyes start to water,
and my mind can not stop running.
I keep what I know to my self,
I some times wish for a voice, the
point of time where you are the one
that can not speak.
For you know what I say is real,
and you give in to that
moment with out a fight.
So I sit here in the fantasy,
knowing if I was stronger
I would be able to walk away,
I would be free.
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