The mind's creation falls short.

Fantasies

The idea of someone you don't really know, is the most misleading thing.
We build and build a figure that won't withstand gravity.
An imaginary character that would only exist in a different world.
But here it can withstand it's figure.
It wobbles and strains to keep balance.
Something that perfect can't withstand.
Time starts to seep in the crevices,
Cracking the foundation,
Breaking the frames.
I stand holding the figure with arms sprawled out.
Grasping for a figure that is bound to tumble.
When it falls I will still be holding on.
Since it is my fantasy, I imagine a vine growing.
Attaching the broken pieces.
I think I have fixed the problem.
I take a step back to admire the creation.
Each step back is it uglier and uglier.
Because I am not God.
I cannot create a beautiful person.
I cannot create the man I need.
As much as I try, my plans are rubbish in comparison.
But this is something I have attempted for so long.
It is my creation and though it is horrifying and disgusting,
It is mine.
Soon it will fall and disintegrate.
And I will walk away.
This time looking for something real and living.