Some of us imagine
and some of us know.
Some of us don't want to, and some of us are
so jaded by what they've seen.
But how do you know
which one you are?
When time stands still without a bottle of wine as if I don't exist.
For a fleeting moment
lucidity makes sense
but then the pain kicks in again.
I can't face my brain,
but I know how to love.
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