A sensitive boy

I don’t feel real
a mind in limbo
floating between
life and art and
life and art and
art and life.

Am I real?
Am I really real?
Am I…Am I…

I remember once
seeing a man walking down the street
talking to his own self
Mommy warned me
to be careful…He’s crazy.

I pitied him and made myself repulsed
I’m repulsed
I’m repulsive

shitting myself
pissing myself
pityingly allowing
this self limbo.

I work for real
even when I’m not so real
I work just enough to pass for real
I’m strong enough too
too cowardly not too.

I will laugh with you
at me walking down the street
talking to my own self.

Its repulsive and unrealistic
isn’t it?
Who does that?
Be careful…I’m crazy!