Specter Of The Real World

Words seem to flow,
Drip from my pen.
Words of praise,
Questioning words,
Promising words,
And more words.
They appear on the paper,
Almost of their own accord.
On paper,
I am fearless,
The real world has no hold on me,
What I say,
What I feel,
But the second I voice those same words,
Reality takes over,
Shoves me back,
Back to my silly paper,
The place where I can say anything,
But none of it matters.
I am bound here,
In this imaginary world,
With an imaginary reality,
Transparent as glass,
And just as fragile.
The real world has no hold on me,
But I don't even exist there.
I am a ghost,
A shadow,
There but not.
And so I drift,
Creating my worlds to suit me,
Amd being ignored by,
The real world.

The End

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