You chase away shadows,
Despite knowing you are ignorant to my darkest secrets.
You have picked me up when people have dropped me.
Thank you for that
You have propped me when I tore myself down,
even if it wasn't out loud,
with almost compliments like "you're the 30th hottest girl in grade twelve at our school,"
or "on a scale of one to ten, you're definitely above a six and a half."
You thank me for being real.  

You tell me you will never fall in love and foolishly I tell myself again and again that you are only afraid.
You thank me for being real.

My heartbeat is reflected in the flutter of my eyelids.
I love you. I love you.
I stay silent, smile sweetly and softly sigh.
You thank me for being real.

Your mind is like a thousand piece puzzle and just when I think I've got you figured out,
the pattern changes.
A project I will never finish.

She is perfect, you tell me.
Beautiful and talented and as willfully committed to everything she does, like you.
But that includes the lack of harmonious passion.

She hears no bells when she looks at you.
Her face does not flush when you so rarely yet so willingly lead her into an embrace.
But that is what you like.

You always want what you can't have.
She has everything and wants for nothing at all.
While all I want is you.

But she will always be too perfect, and I
will always be too real.