Innards

Jumbling and rattling in the box,

A jigsaw of you in your head,

A life spent sorting; combining,

A life spent stressed before you're dead.

What a blockbuster you act out,

For an audience of strained nerves,

Mistaking all of the plot holes,

For exciting scares, twists, and curves.

Ruminate all you like silly,

None of this will ever come true,

But what if the real difference,

If there's no differences to you.

Indulge in your pitiful mind,

Live a life never lived before,

And when you're done playing pretend,

Refuse to leave and play some more.

This is no life to fake living,

Imagination can be Hell,

So come back and face your worries,

Your life will be worthy to tell.