I had a dream last night where I was
supreme and had so much money and
fame that everybody knew my name.
When awake, nobody knew any of my
prose or me, but everybody knew because
I drank, my bank account was a blank.
I judge my life when I’m asleep and when
awake, I perceive there’s no reprieve and
yearn to return to my nighttime world.
When I’m there all is fair, and women gift wrap
their love for me and give it to me underneath a
tree. Like a sailor on shore I couldn’t shut the door.
Similar to a sinking whale, they’d dance, sing, and
even prance to get me to make an advance. My daytime
women treated me as though I was made of ice?
That world was s a hurtful place and I only took up
space, until reality smacked me in the face and my
morality decided, I’d rather be asleep than awake.