The Imaginary Girl

I wake in the night, a flash of eyes
And the light explodes.
For a moment, you are there:
Your weight real along my side,
Your breath brushing my hair aside.
And then my fingers twitch,
My body wakes, and you are gone.
The bed is cold without you,
As it was when I imagined you were there.
I count the ceilings and realise
That I should count the cracks instead.
They would call me lovesick
Or heartbroken. They would call you
Cruel and merciless, or
Not worthy of my time and energy.
But they can't: simply because
You are not there, and worse,
Because you never were at all.
 
What is wrong in my mind,
That makes the images I conjure real enough
To love?
How can I love you: you were never born,
And there is no face out there
That matches yours when you smile.
I would wish you away, but
Love wishes you here.
Hopeless, that would be me, hopeless after all;
I love a smile, a curl, a whispered voice
And blue, blue eyes, that mine never saw.
 
Could they purge you from my mind?
Stop me dreaming, wake me up,
Let me live my life without you?
Let me look at the dancefloor flirts,
At the barman with his shy smile,
At the woman in the office with the pretty laugh,
And not compare them all to you?
Maybe they could: bring a doctor,
Crack my skull, find you and rip you out.
 
I won't.
The theory goes that we would choose
Our dirty realities over our precious dreams
But I cannot. I love you, love you like
I can never love another,
And you won't leave me, loyal
As they would want you if you were real.
Leave me, stay here, make up my mind for me,
And when I am alone and my mind collapses
Under the strain of living inside myself,
Remember that I did that for you,
And even more for me.