As the sun rises
Unbidden thoughts of you appear.
Swept up in the revelry
I forget that you aren't real.

I mean,
You're real enough.
You're made of organic matter.
You have a heartbeat and consciousness.
But you're still not really real.

You're an idea,
Or an ideal, as it were.
You're the best and worst of me.
And I love and hate you for it.
You complete and destroy me.

So when those unbidden thoughts
Rise with the morning sun,
I can feel my atoms separating
My very bond with the universe weakening,
And in a moment, if I don't reign in my mind,

I'll
Be
Gone.