Make-Believe o’clock

I will dig my fingers
In your closed palms
And asked to be held back
While looking in your eyes
You laugh with your mouth,
Not your eyes, and I can see
That you very well know:
The extent of my white lies
And my effortless make-believe
The self-destruction that I deny
You know that I can never let lose
I’m often the one that holds
You, when you slip and fall and
Curl up in that wretched hole
But I like to believe that
One day when my mind
Has lost its strategic strengths
You’ll find my hands as they grapple
And bear my descend on your shoulders.
So tonight we play my game again
It’s make-believe o’clock
When we shrink into the kind of people
We’d like to be and deny our mediocrity
Trading it for possibilities that can be.

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