Fantasies

Photo by Richard Stachmann on Unsplash‍ ‍

What if your dreams have always been nightmares?

Dreamer

I used to think I would be extraordinary

I fit the part, the underdog with no friends

The girl that was predicted to kill herself

At 13, the girl who cried too much

And could never accept the world as it was

The dreamer, the creative with no self-esteem

I thought maybe someday my story

Would turn out differently

I used books and characters

Music videos and movies

As a way to hope, to dissociate

To escape to a realm that felt like a promise

But it never was, and it will never exist

The promised land, Heaven, or Eden

A better future and a perfect past

Maybe were always lies

Dark Magic

My life has always felt like

Someone has a cursed doll

In my shape and face

That they stab repeatedly, annually

Just to make sure I’m not okay

I used to think suffering came from God

But now I realize pain is its own entity

A storytelling spirit plaguing my mind

Life means nothing, death means something

And goodness does not prevail

Evil isn’t born, but it can’t be taken back

Once you’ve sinned once

Nothing can wash it away

You just have to live with it

Maybe the face of God is just the truth

Denial and escapism is the Devil

But it’s also what kept you safe for a while

Until you were strong enough, ready enough

To face the rest of your life

There are no fairy tales, heroes aren’t real

And goodness only goes so far

There’s no getting around that anymore

Justice

I don’t want you to worry about me

Being in pain doesn’t mean everything

It just affects anything

And maybe I’m never supposed to think about it

I don’t know what’s real anymore

I know the trauma happened

But I also know I’ve healed

And I also know how to not provoke anymore

Moving on is the ideal

Because justice has never existed

But it feels wrong sometimes

Like I’m betraying a young version of myself

By letting go of so much

I think we do know right from wrong

But we learn to compromise

Because being right is always painful

The truth is, though, that I morphed

Into characters I never thought I’d be

All because of you and your cruelty

That’s not me avoiding responsibility

You taught me that nobody was safe

No matter how long I’d known them

No matter how much I believed in them

And you taught me how easily others

Would turn against me

With such cowardly manipulation

I was the villain when I said nothing

But your paranoia still destroyed my character

I know I should feel comfort that your guilt

Will live with you until you face it

On some level, it may never be enough

I lost years because of you

And the healed version of myself today

Is still different from the future I’d once imagined

Vanilla Sky

I really wish I had stopped thinking about you

Stopped torturing myself with something

That was so clearly untrue

How did I let myself fall into that delusion?

I clearly wasn’t as healthy as I thought

But didn’t I know this on some level?

After all, I knew not to tell anyone

What I was thinking, what I was hoping

And not because I thought they could ruin it

But because speaking it would shatter the possibility

It was a story I could tell only to myself

Because it would be clear to everyone else

That it was never reality

Like when you said ideally

We could maybe be engaged in 3 years

I knew even then that would never happen

Individualism

I don’t know what’s real anymore

I just know life is not a fantasy

We were told to aspire to dreams

Knowing our realities were sufferings

I was told not to face truths

Such as “I could never be happy with this life”

And “I will never belong anywhere”

I believe being superstitious is a mental illness

I’m always in conflict with spirituality

It’s not healthy to assume everything will crumble

But it’s also stupid to say only that the world is beautiful

I was so terrified of my dreams burning to ashes

And I kept telling myself the odds were low

But it happened anyway

And I’m back to facing a life half-lived

I’ve become weary of aspiring for more

It now seems impossible

And a standard I can’t hold myself to

The pressure will kill me eventually

And letting go completely

Might condemn me to mediocrity

Not with talent, or money

But with the rest of it

What happens if I do end up alone?

If I’ve given up on my dreams

I’m still left with close to nothing

After all these years, I’ve gained nothing

Do I want love, or do I want freedom?

Do I want recognition, or would I rather be private?

It doesn’t seem like I can have it all

And every option has a cost too high

For me to afford