Illusions

Yesterday the clock on my wall decided to rest, and I regretted for being late for work. It was an illusion and I didn't rebel, it felt good to be on time.

IIllusions are good, sometimes.

What better have you taught me?

You played für Elise on your 5.1 speaker and when I entered the room,

surprised, you stood up from the leather chair beside the piano, pressed your palm against my cold cheek and whispered, 'Illusions are good, for I'm too lazy to change the reality' and winked. No, you weren't lazy enough to prove it. You warned me every time you accepted your lies, every time you puppy faced with greed in your eyes, every time you asked me to sleep better, for the dreams aren't meant to be lost. But instead, I believed you were too good to be an illusion. Nah! Reality was too harsh to be accepted.

You were the artist, the illusion maker, and me,

the girl who was too mesmerized by them to blink.

©Mulberrywords