I piece things together one by one,

filling in the blanks for you,

so I can teach you who I am.

I feel like you know me…

but the truth is nobody does, not even me.

I can trust and hope all I want,

but the real truth is I need to build trust and hope in reality…

not a dream.

Can’t I just keep my shallow end,

instead of creating a deeper one?

Why can’t my mind stop,

why must it torture itself as of it enjoys it.

Maybe I feel there’s more than there is,

maybe my dreams are as simple as my juvenile ones,

with the simplicity of my shallow mind.

One day I’ll know, one day I’ll stop dreaming…

and on that day I’ll know that one day exists.