You

You’re my fourth wall, my writers block,
The one unreachable note. You scribble me
Down like an afterthought and forget later
What it was you wrote. And I like the fool
I can be, sit back and watch you make the
Thought of me some kind of joke, while I
Choke, on love.

My hands are rough now from trying to
Build you up every time you say you’re knocked
Down, try to make a smile from that frown.
I should know by now that the stage doesn’t matter-
The ending, I hear the sound, of the curtain fall
And you, you’ve played your part beautifully,
The philosophical clown.

And I expect too much, from you, from me
And the perfect mess we could be. Its
So foolish to think, that we could share the stars,
Wrong to believe, that I have any idea
Who or what exactly it is that you are.
Time to throw the net out again
And wade into the sea.