Grateful is not a word of thanks
but a gesture
where silently you reply
with a contented smile
your words illusions,
frightful illusions,
that put me in danger
through helping me sleep at night.
Our friendship is a service,
where you call me in need
and naively I accept
to tell myself lullaby lies,
to hear your voice.
There’s joy in being wanted
on display.
I’ve began to realize
we’re both so blind
I tell you things,
important things,
simple things,
I see the silent nods
expressed indifferently.
You smile and forget the bitter truth
forget?
why must I forget,
is it healthy to forget
and pretend it’s all okay?
I look at you
and my mind disappears
into a mushy, warm fuzzy place
but what I realize
when I’m far from you
I’m not so sure
that I can continue
to play the part
of faux reality.
but a gesture
where silently you reply
with a contented smile
your words illusions,
frightful illusions,
that put me in danger
through helping me sleep at night.
Our friendship is a service,
where you call me in need
and naively I accept
to tell myself lullaby lies,
to hear your voice.
There’s joy in being wanted
on display.
I’ve began to realize
we’re both so blind
I tell you things,
important things,
simple things,
I see the silent nods
expressed indifferently.
You smile and forget the bitter truth
forget?
why must I forget,
is it healthy to forget
and pretend it’s all okay?
I look at you
and my mind disappears
into a mushy, warm fuzzy place
but what I realize
when I’m far from you
I’m not so sure
that I can continue
to play the part
of faux reality.