Am I just make-believe? Is my life merely a figment of all my senseless imaginations? Or am I a promise? A being that has never reached that point of self-realization and has yet to unconceal her wings to the world? But is it a process really? Or is everything a choice of the thought? When you see the world in this particular light, are you being real? Or are you just trying to be somebody that you are not? When you touch another person's heart, are you trying to reach out to her as if to uncarve her from the sculptor's hand or are you trying to carve her into another?
When you touch me, do I touch you the same way? Or this is all skin? Or do I no longer exist at all when your fingers laced my heart?
dream or promise?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment