Fiction Infliction
What you imagine is what you get
Doesn’t matter if you can support it
Everything is real
Everything is fake
Everything is anything you can make

Warped images condensing
melting into a distorted vision
Is it your perfect little place,
where all your dreams of life go
Or where your pain and tears flow
where you let agony grow
It what it is

It’s time
It’s place
It’s any face
It’s me
Its you
It can be true
It’s him
It’s her
I do infer
It’s everything
 
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