i have forgotten
what it means to be real.
I have forgotten that skin and flesh
and soul and mind
belong to each other.
I have forgotten that my universe
and my surroundings
depend on each other.
I have been juggling two truths.
What my eyes see
and my skin feels
versus my imaginations interpretation.
whirled and battered is my internal perspective.
how could everything be so clear and clean and polished in my vision
yet chaotic and fluid
— where gravity pulls and twists
the matter of my thoughts
with such intense velocity
that a strand of sense is impossible
to grasp within my mind?
how does one make sense
of such a harsh contradiction?
that the reality my fingers brush
is so rigid and secure
but my reality
where i will infinitely reside
collapses only to re-morph
with every dash of truth it is confronted with
how am i to know which is real then?