a man lies in his bed in a room with no door
he waits hoping for a presence, something, anything, to enter
after spending half his life searching, he still felt as blank as the ceiling at which he stared
he is alive, but feels absolutely nothing
so is he?
when he was six he believed that the moon over head followed him
by nine he had deciphered the allusion, trading magic for fact
no trade backs
so this is what it's like to be an adult
if he only knew now what he knew then
I'm open (2x)
come on in (4x)
I'm open (2x)
come on in (4x)
lying sideways atop crumpled sheets with no covers
he decides to dream
dream up a new self
for himself
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