I aim to be
His mental ******* machine
Tickle his brain
Relieve some of his pain
Catch his hope in his chest
Fill up his lungs with his next fresh breath
I want him to see himself through my eyes
Sometimes
And feel his own  effect with his beautiful vibe
Maybe he is too ******* himself
Doesn’t feel worthy of **** near worship
Or maybe it’s annoying
For real, who would want that ****?  
All these “maybes”
To hide the fact
The reason is me
Not accepting what will never be
Ownership of what I cannot achieve
Might be what’s most healthy
But pretending he’s  not there
And I don’t see
How beautiful he be
Does not feel like freedom
To me