in dreams
because if things were real i wouldn't believe.
i'd be disenchanted, jaded, put in my place
that paradise doesn't
really exist
on your side, in your life, i'm stuck
on a post-it note
that i wrote myself, to remind you that
i'm your friend. i'd be forgotten otherwise
but that's not too much
of a surprise
on certain lonely days i stop pretending
i'm fulfilled, at peace
with being by myself in the crowd, standing
wistfully pretending, a sad whimpering fool
miserable with my half
the half of paradise without you
humbled,i finally peek over at your side and wish our world wasn't cut into such pieces.
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