Elucidating Questions

I’ve had this long held silent fear

That this reality is just something I made

That I’m laying somewhere catatonic and this is what my own mind made

I guess it lies somewhere in my disbelief that this is the world

What happened to all the Me’s in history?

I can’t be something new I’m not special I’m a replication of history

Right?

Maybe they were just as sick and ineffectual as I am

It’s like I landed on the wrong planet

Beautiful as she is

Brilliant as the Sun is

And I love them

But this

This concrete hell

It can’t be real right?