The Two Fishes Captured by a String of Lies
Born as a Pisces,/
I am like a fish which can’t survive without water,/
as if I can’t survive without my twin,/
yet we’re siblings whom have to let each other go someday,/
but today I wake up to see a… flying fish/
faintly float across our world/
and vanish whenever one makes contact with it./
No one seems to see it except for me./
Still, it was as beautiful as when I first met it,/
yet I felt like that wasn't the first time,/
for the two of us are one and the same./
If two liars spin their lies,/
there will be no difference between a truth and a lie/
so long as they are sweet lies,/
as life is filled with burdens./
Burdens to shoulder or put on others,/
but for a brief moment.../
I can enjoy an escape of happy dreams/
to forget the shackle of time/
and have a little fun./
Along with this dream-like state of deception/
that I am lost in everyday,/
here is an upside-down Eden/
that has authority in my wake./
"Snap out of it!"/
"Being lost in thought is fatal,/
it isolates people even more."/
The person called Daydream.../
from the very start.../
never existed.../
My existence was never written in its story,/
I was lying this whole time.../
all these years.../
I never had a mirrored twin,/
yet that it is the one person I must recall./
With reality as my juvenile,/
I am a flying caged fish/
who turns to the addicting,/
yet bittersweet escapism/
in the underwater dream world./
Though I know there's nothing/
out there for me to reach,/
I still seek answers through sleeping lies./
They pain my heart as tears come,/
but fills my heart with infectious excitement./
However, sadness lingered my heart whenever it ended,/
and so I continued to dream to fill up that sadness./
In turn I am now a fool trapped in stories,/
in which I was saved by with no regrets,/
for it was the beginning that I yearned for,/
that repeats itself through lying dreams,/
yet it is to be the end of this world in which we reside./
Embraced by emptiness,/
I don't know how I get lost,/
nor why I feel like I'll return to/
such an inexcusable habit/
built on lies and contradictions./
This is neither a tragic story nor a comedic one,/
but a circus where I came for something,/
yet here is a prison cell where there's nothing./
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