I never thought that what I wanted wasn't you.
That the truth of this illusion
was that I was infatuated
with the idea of
being loved.
That someone could attach themselves to
one so flawed and scarred as I
with shadows cast deep
In the recesses of my mind;
What a silly dream to conjure.

Filled with electricity I floated,
Eyes clouded by the smoke of the sparks that you lit before me
And in the haze it wasn't your face that I saw
It wasn't your hand that I felt in mine as you pulled me in
To this accidental web of ours.
It was the face of an idealized daydream
the hand of a whispered wish
that I hoped had come true.

Naïve dreamer
Blind wanderer
The masquerade was ending
But I needed you
To be the one that I saw
behind the smoke.
Desperately I tried to shape you into him,
But you stood before me
An imperfect sculpture
That I was determined to fix.
But what right had I?

Truth broke the surface of my withered hope and shattered me.
Thousands of fragments of glittering glass dreams littering the floor
You were not mine to change
Not mine at all
And I was never yours.