every projection of my subconscious,

the idealistic  life,

the hyper realist.

The thief of my memories,

the denier of my emotions,

its my will without my consent,

its my guillotine to an unrealistic paradise.

I dont think I'll survive this time round,,

trapped in a maze of opposite parallels.

Maybe i'll end up dead or lost,

hoping I'd be washed ashore an endless coast,

where i would walk free,

only to learn the depth of the blue desert I walked beside,

the sweet blue lie that pulled in and chased me without an end.