creators

"i'm stuck in a coma
stuck in a never ending sleep
some day I will wake up
and realize I made up everything"

never wanted to believe i had a problem
so i spoke of you and i spoke of him and i spoke of her; but never of me
putting on everyone else what i see in my own reflection
tensions build as i try to grasp hold of what's left
what's left of my dreams and my love has formed into shattered glass
and i try to keep it in a closed grip
firm and secure
but your lies bleed through the cuts that have formed in these hands
from trying to hold tight but somehow everything just keeps slipping away
like the grains of sand that fall from beneath these creators
no matter how carefully you cup them
somehow it finds a way to seep through
my hands, my creators;
they are full of deceit
don't trust them