There are moments that come along and I wonder;
Am I alive?
I ask myself this question because sometimes, I feel doubt.
What is there to prove my existence?
What is there that says: you are alive?
Over time, I’ve gradually found an answer:
Yes, I am alive.
Otherwise, how else would I explain
The throbbing in my heart,
The ringing in my ears,
And the sharp pain in my stomach?
How else would I explain
The tugs at my heart strings,
The difficulty to breathe,
The panic in my thoughts…?
I am alive,
Because otherwise this pain would be a dream,
This pain wouldn’t be real,
But then again I get lost because sometimes… It’s gone.
There are moments that I feel so alive
That the world gets hazy, blurry,
And reality disappears.
It feels like a dream
And in my dreams,
I do not feel alive.
So there are these moments,
Where I am so alive with pain,
That I feel dead in a dream.
And it’s okay,
Because I tell myself that I will sleep,
To wake up from this death,
Only to see the world is still distant,
And reality isn’t tangible.
A growing feeling of time control tugs at my brain.
The possibility of stopping time, rewinding the clock,
Feels all too real in this dream state.
The possibility of going back to when
I am alive.
So then I trek through my dreams,
With one foot in reality
And another lost in time.
The pain returns and again, I feel
I am alive.