You are my comfort,
Though you cannot hold me
In your arms.
You are my escape,
Though you offer me
No words of advice.
You are my love,
Though you lack the
Capacity to love back.
You are me,
And yet resemble
Everyone else.

So why do I come to you,
My arms outstretched?
Why do I seek you out,
When I am alone?
Why, please tell me,
Do I think about you,
Before I fall asleep?

If only you could appear to me
As human, as solid.
I create you
But you never come to life.
If only you could be
What I imagine you to be,
Perfect, flawless, mine.

But I have long given up
On this silly dream.
Focusing only
On what is real.
I still come back to you,
When I am again trapped
In my own mind.
But I know that you
Cannot satisfy me forever.

I need to find my own
Prince Charming.
One not limited to the
Inky pages of story books.
One who can love me back,
Instead of that Cinderella.
And one day, someone
Clever and romantic,
Will write my story.
And one day, together,
We will read it,
And perhaps, compare notes.