What If

What If

What if one day I suddenly notice  
That all I’ve ever known is but a lie—  
That the world is only an illusion,  
A dream dressed in colors that never were?

What if I realize  
The line between me and reality  
Was never drawn at all—  
That it’s just me,  
And the echo of my own imagination?

What if the being I’ve become  
Is simply the one I wished to be—  
That my path, my presence,  
Is nothing but a question mark  
Hanging in the void?

What if I believe  
That all I’ve come to know is false—  
That I’m just overthinking,  
Caught in a loop of maybe and might?

But what if then,  
I finally understand  
Why what if began in the first place?

So what—  
Does that mean all I’ve seen and heard  
Was never real?  
That the joy, the pain,  
The hunger, the tears,  
The persistence—  
Were all just figments of thought?

So what—  
Have I never truly been there?  
The déjà vu,  
The intuition,  
The memories—  
Were they only shadows on a wall?

But then…  
That means a part of me did exist.  
For I had to be real  
To dream the illusion.  
A me had to be there  
To create the us I experienced.

I had to be alive  
To imagine.

So then—  
What if I was there,  
And I realized it could all be an illusion,  
But I chose, in the end,  
To say:

So what.