I sometimes

feel this

perilous stranglehold

on my state of mind.

I want to

imagine all the world

is a façade,

and I am a character.

I often wonder

what happens to the innocence

of just being.

It seems

the more the days go by

I continue counting

increasingly.

I want to wonder

if I’m just imagining

everything.

I want to touch

the sky with my heart and soul.

I want her eyes

to see me plead.