My dreams

In my dreams i picture me having the perfect family,
A mom, a dad, brothers, and sisters all making perfect memories,
But i wake up,
I wake up and realize its all fake,
I wake up to yelling and screaming and somebody saying get the f*** out my face,
I go back to sleep with music blasting in my ears,
Its like im the type of person who is always living in fear,
Its crazy that i have to live in a fantasy,
But its the only way i can deal with reality,
I come from a broken home,
Where no love, no love is shown,
Could this be the reason why im always writing poems?
Yes. No. Maybe. Possibly.
I must stay in my room constantly.
Forget the outside world.
I was taught that everyone here was ment to harm me.
Forget the outside world.
I stay alone. I am alone.
Me and my mental army.