Daydreamer

My   eyes are glossed and I can't wake up.

And something inside of me   understands the alcoholic in you.

The need to drink pastthese thoughts. 

They aren't even solid thoughts.

The need to drink past these feelings. 

I'm sorry for sleepwalking into your reality. 

And my eyes were matted shut and my arms strewn in front of me.

Just lik  e the fucking movies. 

And I can remember      when I thought I was living. 

My body twitching. My breathing heavy, but steady. 

I can feel the warmth of the sunbeams licking at my pale skin. But I know I'm asleep.

But one night   someone told me that everything seemed so important when it was dark.

But I'm sitting here. In the dark. Face agleam with        soft light from the monitor.

I'm still nothing. Nothing  but  a  puffy  eyed  zombie  gnawing  at  my  cheeks. Put in a sick trance by  the   words    that I thought might be important to you. 

    And there are gaps in my thoughts,, amounts of time that don't exist because my   brain  was to busy  to tend to    me. It's like I' m weaving a web so carefully but I  always  fall    through the gaps. and fall. and fall. and fall. Until I'm trapped  in someone else's web where  they tie me  up and feast on my blood. But I'm asleep and think it's a dream. And I'm asleep so it is a dream. And in my dreams, you're a black widow. And in my reality, you're my black widow.

But I never wanted to be important. And I never wanted to be noticed.

And now I'm not. 

But you understand that because my fingers are laced in yours; my fingers are grabbing at the last link to humanity that I have. But the clock is ticking and I merely have weeks before you ascend. I merely have weeks before I descend. 

And I'll keep sleepwalking in the deepest slumber with no chance of waking.

A walking comatose. 

And I'll laugh, but I                      

                                                                        won't feel it. 

And I'll cry, but I won't feel it.

Because the monsters will own me like they own you. 

But I'll let them because they pull my string like a doll and I say what I was programmed to. 

And they pull your string and you say what you're programmed to.

And do you always say what you're told to?

Are you always so polite? 

It's for show because I know otherwise;

I painted my self portrait on  my face for you and you never noticed. 

I think about it             . And if phases me.