Am I dreaming?

Is reality dreaming
of reality?

If his eyes can't see me
They are awful liars,
crowding the knot in my throat,
the guilt in my chest,
the whimper of my whimpering self...

Done nothing but dream.
Of words that are forced
motions not taken
and the inevitable hurt I can wrought.

In seconds, I might steal a chair
an unwanted heart,
a drive across a town we've never seen
but always, you show up
not looking
not knowing,
but
just there.

Remind me
what reality is,
not the comfort of hapless dreaming,
or my hapless bed,
just confusion of where lines are defined,
where it all starts and ends.