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?