Maybe if I keep this up I’ll be prepared for it all. Maybe if I prepare for all of the worst it won’t be so bad when they happen.
It’s maybe this, maybe that…it’s hard to keep track.
You tell me everything will be fine and that in time I’ll believe you; but can that really be true?
I’m so jaded by what’s real and what isn’t, that pretending you’re a dream and I’ll wake up is the easiest explanation.
Bring me back, reality; therefore I won’t fear the dream. I’m constantly battling the fantasy of fairytale.