The Misguided

True: I'd love to hate you.

It's like a cloud falling:

                               silver grey yellow blue,

                               soft wet, capturing cold.

Closed around you and not my guiding light

                               not the lighthouse on a cliff

                               calling homewards to me.

More the lulling river full of suggestion

                               your constructed hopes

                               your blinded desires.

Oh yes, I'd love to hate you.

My friend, you dreamed you were my love,

                               but it's the blind that dream so well.

But you're not my northern star in alien waters,

                               sailing these waters isn't so hard

                               You're for someone who doesn't exist.

Not my navigation or my cartographer,

                              Don't cloud the way.

You're not waiting for me.

My friend, you dreamed you were my love,

                              when you thought my heart was dead,

                              you thought I would take a final leap.

My friend, you dreamed you were my love,

                             like you were some knight,

                             on some imaginary stallion.

My friend, you dreamed you were my love,

                             and only the blind dream so well

                             in the wrong direction.

True: I'd love to hate you.

So take your dreaming far from me.