You were like a dream.
Magical,
Brief,
And too good to be true.
And just like the best of dreams,
They can never reoccur.
So I'll shove you out of my heart,
At least the best I can.
Because just like good dreams, you think about the best ones every now and then.
Always knowing they're too good to be true, and actually exist.
They're theories of a perfect world. Making you ache at reality.