Temporary Ideal

I want to live but I won't.
I'll probably cry and choke.  
On every ounce of existence forcing its way into my resistance.  
I want to let go, I want to dream.  
I'll probably shake and scream.  
On every ounce of assistance offered to my conditions.  
I am an ideal,  a memory, a thought of something nice.
Something right something bright.
In reality I am a speck, a blemish, a mistake.  
Good enough to envision but the reality betrays.