My mind is made up of dark fantasies and memories that never happened, but somehow ends up cutting like a scar. A scar to remind me that it did. Maybe I'm hallucinating... or maybe my imagination is an intensity outside of my control. But what's the difference? You tell me. After all, isn't this all a dream anyways? Aren’t you just a figment of my imagination? A reflection of me? A reflection of what I like or dislike about myself? A lesson needing to be learned? At least thats what we're taught. just like how love is a forever thing. A exclusive thing. A religious thing. How it's filled with butterflies and surprises and pictures to show proof of exactly that. Perhaps I should keep dreaming. Perhaps I should wake up. Wake up to the reality that it doesn't exist here. I mean, of course I want romance but trouble seems to want me more. Trouble seems to find me better. Or maybe it's karma. I don't know. I can't distinguish between the two. My therapist tells me to take deep breaths and think good thoughts. But I don't think even she knows what good thoughts are. So I laugh ...and I take deep breaths and I think good thoughts. good thoughts of me playing with fire.