top of page

More Fiction Then Reality

His voice almost didn’t seem real

I couldn’t tell

If he was talking like that because he was at work or not

But he sounded like a character from a movie

And not like a guy who was making my sandwich for me


It’s moments like this

Where I have to double check that I am not in a simulation

But there isn’t a way to check that

Is there?


It’s days like today

That life feels more fiction

Then reality

The lines are blurry

And as I drink more

And smoke more weed

And munch on shrooms again

The lines get blurrier and blurrier


I have to go meet an artists

After this sandwich

That I might hire to make my book cover

But I hired her first

To make something

A birthday gift

And I’m nervous as shit

But I try to be the brave main character

This story deserves

So I take a breath

And let my feet take me where I need to go


What is reality?

And what is poetry?

Where do the lines meet?

Does the through-line run through both?


Where does the art start

And life begins?


Or

Is it all the same?


Is it all the same?


Someone tell me,

Please


Is the art in life

Or is life in art?


When these people feel more like actors in a play

Then other humans

It’s probably time to get some sleep

And try again

Tomorrow.


-C.H.


6 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

They say that I have a hard face And that I am guarded They say that I am rough around the edges They say I have opinions And that I am a little different They tell me that I am difficult And that my

I have one friend Who is jealous of my single life With all my dates and stories But he Has a good job And a good wife And a good home And a good daughter And a son on the way He doesn’t see it But I

There’s a poetry night coming up here in a few days But my hands are too shaky to write And my body is too broken to fight My mind is too wild to sit still And my will fell ill awhile ago And the ego

Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page