Note To Self

Note To Self

I want to see you,
touch you, kiss you -
I miss you.

Love me, need me;
your love is what feeds me,
believe me.

I trust you, but wonder
what spell you're under
to blunder
into my arms, or desire
me; and more, you seem to require
more than I am or can be -
a mystical guy that i'm not,
who hasn't a concept of "me",
who knows that you're all that he's got;
he doesn't believe in himself;
he might have been left on the shelf;
but for you, he denies any worth
and he knows there are others on earth
who outshine him like sunlight outshines
a shadow. But this is a fake,
a dream, a vision, a wish -
I can't be that guy. So wake
from your daydream, for this,
this is the stuff of life,
reality - a stony hard truth -
a life disappointed, with strife,
and love without ever a proof.

So what do you want,
what do you need,
can you get,
or desire?
None, all, a selection of these?
A substitute quick to displease,
and quickly to disappear...
But whose are these words that you hear?
Surely though written by me,
these words are your own that you see.

End