Feeling Too Much

Perfect Dreams

There are so many perfect dreams

They seem in foresight, they seem so near

But every time I get close

They run away, and I have to start over

A different way each day

Dreams are there

And they seem so perfect

But are they really?

Why are dreams so easy to question?

Is there lost hope or pain or

What?

Oh god, I live for death

I surrender for triumph

I heal for pain

I let go because I know that

I am the only one

The thing is, I don't understand

I hate the prospect of anything good happening to me

So unusual, so out of reach

Jealous, jealous of those who can say what they truly feel 

And then there's me

Not me, there are some restrictions I can't break

They hold me too tightly

I fade away

Covered up, not living here

But in my hearts, where my tears fall and run

Why am I so cautious of everything I do or say?

People thing I'm Ms. Perfect, Ms. Detail-Oriented

The only details I see drag me down even more

I can't give myself much freedom, so I take what I can get

Like my bedtime, the food I eat, I'm on a strict enough discipline already

If this is supposed to make my dreams come true

It's not working, I'm telling you