The Lack In My Reality

Is it the lack in my reality –

That which draws me in?

Or just the beauty of this fantasy?

Every dream causes a further fall.

I feel the butterflies burst to life,

Then collide, wither and fall lifeless to the pit of my stomach

As I suddenly stop short, always out of reach,

Never able to see you, know you.

Not ever close to truly loving you.

Because, in reality, I can’t have you.

My grasp on this make-believe remains,

Despite the more I fall,

And the more the reality becomes clear.

I hold on not because I want you, but because of the untouchable beauty of this dream,

The smile that the butterflies ensure

And the constant hope that this fantasy will compensate

For the lack in my reality.