Bitter sweet?

It is not what

we dream, but how

Pressing the pulp

out of the fruit

Bitter or sweet,

So we devour it all,

Better bitter than bland

Or nothing at all

The fake wake we mistake,

Unreal for real

When nothing is real

Except for what we feel

I ache for a take in life

I won’t mistake for fake

It is not night’s arrows

That make dream ache

But the darts of daylight

We mistake for waking

When we are not,

And it is in the midst (mists)

We miss real for unreal

Dream for not dream

Love for not love

Wake for not wake

When all is dream

And none else

Matters.