Fantasy Reality Fantasy

Fantasy.
Reality.

The break. The blur. The cut.
The mist begins to lift 
                                and for a moment 
                                                my mind is torn between what's seen
                                                                                   and what's trapped.

Fantasy.
Reality.

Shattered glass breaks before me.
I stand mirrorless and yet all I see is me.

Can you see the pictures in your head?
Can you hear the voices in your mind?
Can you feel the fear inside your soul, blinding you to what the world is really telling you.
Can you feel the past inside your memories, burning your courage to stand your ground.

The pieces blend together and unlike the puzzle  promised in the beginning, 
the pieces collapse,
                            collapse, 
                                         collapse, 
                                                    forming the bruises and cuts of what you knew were real,
                                                    forming the bruises and cuts that you're bred to trust in.

Fantasy.
Reality.

The trick always begins with the tick of the clock.
The tick of the clock only begins with you.
When did you become the master of your own tricks,
When did you begin to lose control of the title.

When did we want to control fantasy.
When did we lose hold of reality.
When did the lines defining the two become so veiled.

Fantasy Reality Fantasy Reality Reality Fantasy Reality Fantasy Reality Fantasy Fantasy Reality Fantasy

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