Is this a memory or a fantasy? Imagination or reality?
What is true, what is false? My mind lacks all clarity.
Is this a dream or am I awake?
My brain really does need a break.
Was that a man or a pile of clothes?
Was that just a shadow or a ghost?
Is he a vampire or just a bit too pale?
My stories have become a sailor’s tale.
A little turbulence turns into a tempest,
A small win, into the biggest conquest.
A little pain into a matter of life and death,
Just give me some time to catch my breath.
My mind runs at speeds a bit too fast,
I end up thinking too much about the past,
Or fantasizing about the future to come,
And making up random tunes to hum.
My mind is a beast beyond control,
For some it spouts the worst vitriol,
For others it writes the sweetest poems.
At times it merely plays danceable rhythms,
Or long Internal monologues so loud,
Of my own imagination I am very proud.