To think and dream
remembering a place
where we've never been
pondering the sparkling
pond we never swam in
or the heat from the
crackling fireplace
we never snuggled
in front of.

I rush to thoughts of you,
a reflection of someone
I never truly knew,
an omnipresent
perfect female companion,
a lie I tell myself.

The same lie
that dies in the reality
of knowing you will
never love me,
only to be resurrected
by hazy half remembered
dreams.

Cause the memory of
a never was
or never will be love
is sickly sweet,
as unhealthy
as the corn syrup crap
the food industry
has been feeding me.

My sugary affliction,
farcical fantasy,
addiction of desire
which affords me
moments of relief
from the reality
of our sick and
hateful society.