Somewhere in the world a boy was born

Only from my thoughts and my muse alone.

Lonely is the life that one lives truly alive,

If that whole life is just and idea in my mind.

People who pass me don’t look in my eyes

Since they might disappear if they reply.

I spoke to myself in the voice of a stranger

So I’d feel less alone,

Maybe escape the chamber.

The moon told me secrets I’ve heard time before

I dreamt with the reruns of nights I’d ignored.

I once kissed a girl with a name like a song,

But the tune felt too perfect,

Like something was wrong.

When she wrote me a love letter,

The writing was my own.

She appeared in a dress

That my own hands had sown.

She tried to get closer,

But started to fade.

I stepped in to reach her

And met my own gaze.

At last, I awoke from the theatre of thought

To find that the ticket I’d bought had been wrought

From paper I’d printed, in ink from my veins

Because the world I had wandered

Was locked in my brain.