My Mind

Written by: Me

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Most minds are a sanction

For free will and thought,

But mine, my dear,

Is not so taut.

Ideas run wild,

Like small children do.

To hide the fact,

That this world is true.

I live in fake worlds,

With apple-pie lives.

Only to sit alone,

Without unlimited revives.

Now listen here,

I must sound crazy.

But this real world

Sometimes seems a bit hazy.

I’m a writer at heart,

Being torn apart,

By ten thousand make-believe worlds.

Sometimes my head gets so crazy with what is real versus what is fake. I’ll have dreams that I have no clue are reality or not. My memories are weird. Sometimes just random ideas pop into my head with no context.

I can’t tell if it’s a writer thing or a me thing.

Part of my mind tries to believe that this world is a dream. That one day I’ll wake up in the bunker to Sam, Dean, Cas and Gabriel standing around me. Or open my eyes and see Loki standing there with all the Avengers.

My mind is an odd, confusing place. And it’s capabilities are albeit, scary, at times. All I can do is live in this world and make the best of it.