Living In a Dream

We work and live inside a dream,

Nothing here is what it seems.

Thoughts walk in and call me “me,”

Like I signed them silently.

Love shows up with blood on hands,

Hate pretends it understands.

Joy arrives then slips away,

Leaves a bill I still must pay.

I wake up tired, go to work,

Smile clean, but doubt still lurks.

Bills, regrets, old words replayed,

Every move already staged.

I fight my thoughts like they’re my own,

Defend a self I’ve never known.

Win a round, then lose the war,

Same damn thoughts knock at the door.

Then something cracks — not loud, not bright,

Just a whisper in the night:

“These thoughts aren’t yours — they pass through you,

Like weather does, like winds that move.”

The pain is real, the tears are true,

But even those are given too.

The dream don’t break when you see this part —

You wake inside it, heart to heart.

I don’t escape, I don’t run free,

I learn who’s running through me.

And in that truth — so stripped, so bare —

I find a Hand that’s always there.