Reality is rigid, sometimes too much so
And so I long to bend it.
I find relief in darkness
In a world where you are you,
But you are for me.

Is it wrong? Is it contemptible?
I care not; this bliss transcends the subconscious.
Yet, I hurt when the real you appears.

And if your heart can’t be mine…
I’ll be content with my counterfeit.
And dream on; for a day where we may be.