like shifting shadows moving across walls and space
I constantly reflect everything and everyone
daydreamers like to envision a new world
one where every cog in the machine does its job
we get tired of being the mirror
a role model to all of what bad life looks like
scars and blood and scabs and tears don't mean much to me
they're just apart of our lives
but the daydreamers are a different race
a different species
a gift
to look around and see nothing but stars
to breathe in and not be able to exit your head space
to force projections that glaze over your eyes is like magic
it's alien and scary
and yet I don't hate it.
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