Prefect dreams of imperfection,
From a lonely heart,
But gives birth to delusion.
Of a love you desire.
The longer the fantasy is in place
The more damage it does.
Before you know it every new meeting
Turns into a comparison
To that very dream,
A mechanism for your hope.
By holding on so tightly
To something unreachable
You hinder the chance for happiness
Unable to be satisfied by what you deem unworthy.
Someone may come,
Who meets the standards of your fantasy,
You will look into the eyes
Of the one that will join you in exuding jubilation
As your souls bind to each other,
Like the spine of a book,
Bringing the pages of your lives together
To create a single, coherent substantial unity.
Though that is the desired outcome,
One that may happen,
But by letting go of your fantasy
You could open yourself up to a different kind of wonderful.
One just as powerful,
But you have to let go,
And open yourself up.
So that you can let another love you.
Love yourself so you can let another love you…