Dreamer

I told you 
I'm a dreamer 
and then 
I dropped hints 
again and again
here and there. 
Repeatedly.

Yet, all you can talk about is
people
People who wronged you
or didn't.
People in 
politics,
business 
and bureaucracy
basking away in 
second-had success  
and delving into
second-had failures 

You talk about boundaries
when my head is limitless 
I suggest
you hammer nails 
around my head
and build a fence 
and see if that
might conform me 
into what you want me to become. 

Don't tell me about work
that is uninspired 
and safe like 
docu-men-tation
and how you do it for 60 hours a week.
It tires me. 

It tires me 
how
You talk about money
Like it can buy culture or class.

It tires me 
when you recite what you
hear on one idiot box 
and scan on another-
never pausing to
read between the lines 

Yet, I envy you. 

I envy you
for your depth as 
well as outwardness
towards
things, yes, things
that I feel nothing towards
and your
stoicism
towards  
subjects
that keep me 
sane.

I envy how
effortlessly you stay afloat
while I am suffering 
and struggling 

I wonder 
where are your layers? 
or are you as one dimensional as 
what meets
the eyes?
I dont know
what am I more afraid of.

I dare you,
for once-
Tell me about
your deepest, darkest
secrets,
fears and
fantasies 
and watch me not
flinch.
I promise 
I will not look away 
I will not blink

and hear me out
just once -
For I am here to find out
if you can return the courtesy. 

Can you for once
be real?
and not
what they are telling you to be. 
For once,
can you tell me
when was the last time you felt alive.