When i lay in bed
staring at my ceiling
my thoughts run wild.
all i can think is
are they real?
i feel as though people i have known for ages are not real.
i feel that they are someone else trying to pretend to be them
but i know i talk to them every day
i know they are so different
but what if they are not who they say they are?
what if the past couple of years were lies?
maybe thats why i never see them
who knows?
YOU ARE READING
The bodies in the graveyard of my mind.
PoetryHow do I tell the world the way I feel about you like I tell the moon?
