escapism?

out of the corner of my mind
rushes a pack of eight footed geckos
snapping up all my random thoughts
like so many red-eyed flies
which swam over the
piles of meat discarded by the butcher

when do we get to go out and
escape our mind’s influence
over everything we are
forced to experience?

when do we get to go out and
make everything up
and actually have control
over what we are experiencing?

when do I get to realize
that none of this is real?
it isn’t enough that I tell myself
over and over and over again,
how do I believe it?

escapism?

— GB

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2 thoughts on “escapism?

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