Thoughts Between

Writer

I live in fiction. Where truth can't live.Where fantasy breathes.

I believe in magic. Where happiness is real and forever exists.

I loathe reality. It will only destroy and control me.

I dream of imagination. Everything else will turn obsolete before me.

I seek for illusion. That will only free and satisfies me.

I feel love. Or pretending that I am.

I trip failure. That I belong to the fools.

I tried to escape.  But who am I running away to? 

I don't know.  I just know what characters am I gonna portray.

I think of endings, conversations and beginnings. Yet, what story am I supposed to create? 

I'm lost.  Lost for thoughts. Lost in the world I created.

Am I going to twist the story I'm making? Or I am the one who would be twisted?

I don't. I don't belong here.  I don't belong to the place where I am.  I don't belong in the world that I created.

I live somewhere.  And I gotta find where is it.

I will leave. And let my creations wonder here.

I will escape. And let myself a writer.