"In Illusion"
by Tara Wood

This was my reality.
A sober life was just a picture on the wall.
I was on the outside of the picture and I couldn't get in.

Sometimes I would daydream about life in the picture, but it was too much work to stay sober.
The world I was trapped in was a constant question;
Even though I was not really sure of what anything was,
I thought I enjoyed it.

After I was raped I didn't know if I was dead, lying in the gutter
Am I really drawing, am I talking?
Anything I thought of could be true,
or I could be dead and just a ghost watching it all.
Was the car real or was it a picture conceived only in my mind?

Was this a movie I was staring in like the Truman Show ?
Were there really people following me, trying to kill me?
Were the police after me for something I might have done,
but don't remember?
Or maybe it was the teewkers,
having me knocked off for knowing too much?
Anything could be reality in my own mind at this point.