Lies of Perfection

in the night, he reaches, my body responds, aching to be near yet the mind screams, pulls back inside its deep recesses familiar pain rears, sits nonchalantly, laughing, taunting me is it I who am loved or am I just involved in the act of love the end justifying the means, a single moment, a brief interlude conveniently remembered and enacted, how can one truly tell? I opened my heart and yet I know, I'm not what he was looking for the knowledge leaves me cold and saddened, ice forming around my core rejection, inferiority, second best, all words that accurately describe yet leave no telltale signs of the great pain that they have inflicted reality and yet my hands roam freely his body as I welcome him inside to lie buried deep within my being, my heart beating furiously the sheer joy of being loved blocking out the fear, feeding on hope even if his emotions are not real, every fibre of my being yearns to one day capture all his love, to see it expressed in his eyes to silently carve my essence indelibly upon his heart, to feel it in his smiles warmth, as his eyes adore each curve the knowledge that says you are mine and I will love you always everyone wants perfection, those that know that they are not nor ever will be the one, suffer from the lies of perfection so here I lie, accepting the very little that is being offered praying to someday find more, existing in that in between world between shadow and light, where nothing is clear, everything is shaded needing to be perfection to someone, as I breathe deeply with eyes drifting into my dreams, helplessly staring across the bed of my future