That ackward moment where you realise your sitting at the wrong end of a table
Holding the wrong hand
Daydreaming about a story you were never part of
Like if it was a hope, a dream, a need.
Falling in this trap
Breaking your illusion of a safe present
Drowning in a dream of what if
Who am I ?
Who have I become?
This should be my story
I should be the one telling it.