this is a hoax at most.
my head spins and i realise i've sold my soul for a dime.
ATMs spit out monopoly money.
dancers pirouette on broken toes and shattered dreams.
my (ir)regular heartbeat reminds me i'm more than just smoke and mirrors.
that the imagery was only imagined for the time being.
i hope to find myself in your words.
because i lost myself in mine.
