Control

In the middle of the night, I spend my time lost in worlds that don't truly exist. Trying better to understand the world I live in.

These worlds are darker. Grimmer and down right more confusing. Alongside a hunderad other similies and metaphors I struggle to produce at 4am. Apologies. 

But still for reasons lost to me, I favour them over reality. 
Perhaps it is the control they give me, that reality starves me of.

Or the redo capabilities, we all wish we had, I'm sure. 
Tell me now, does that fall under control. 

Deep down somewhere in me, I know I can never obtain the control I desire. 

So magic world's, that do not exist, give me the perfect place to feel. 

To feel what I can never truly feel without it ever coming true.

And though words do put some of these realities into print. 

Making them stronger, and somehow, at least feel, more true. 

I haven't yet decided whether that is a good thing or not.