Broken home

I’ve been to many places
On earth
But not as many as in my head.
In my mind I’ve already traveled so much
That I wander in vain now
Searching for a new place to go…
And where to go now?
When this poisonous reality
Has stolen the key
Of my never visited home//
My home is broken now.
People come and go
Like my mind and soul
Are a cheap party
Where anyone can come.
Who let the door open, though?
How could you not tell me, D?
But you, A?
My imaginary friends are gone.
They don’t answer their
Imaginary phones…
People, whoever you are, please, leave!
So much noise!
And such a painful disaster
My thoughts are so tired
That kind of tiredness
That haunts you even after
You had a long sleep…
But then art comes and
Locks my mind up.
It’s silent. And peaceful.
And I’m here. Not alone, but…
Alone with myself and all the
Violins
And pianos
And writers
And painters…
Finally, a moment of silence…
When I finally get home
In reality
And real people ask
Why am I so tired.
Should I tell them, T?

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