If only the dream of You

Its insanity to think
That I could speak
and make you stop
that I could maybe Scream
and make you stop
To you I am nothing
Therefore It is insanity to think,
to dream,
of you with a care
with some hope, some love
for me.
It is insanity!
And yet, it eats away at me,
at this hollowed heart
and black soul
at this broken mind,
this child,
Too old!
It dissolves my precautions,
destroys this hesitation
It drive me forward, to impress
And yet these words I cannot confess,
for you would hear none of it!
Do you not realize that these efforts, strewn
across the memories
You dismiss
with so much ease,
these efforts are distorted to the nothing,
the vast nothingness
of your forgotten mind,
forgotten self.
I try to save you
but you insist,
"there is no help..."
Just as there is no Hell?
Just as there is no god?
Just as we do not know anything?
Nothing at all?
Including the lack of or existence of
Ourselves?
Can you prove this to me, silent one?
Deaf one?
Blind one?
For you do not speak of gratitude.
For you do not hear my screams.
And most of all,
You could not dare SEE me
You dare not realize I am even there.
You do not feel me,
Dare not hear my beating heart,
as its beats quicken at the sight of you,
and stills at a dream...
One intangible,
One of you...
You dare not feel the gentle touch
of my efforts to only please,
Yet you expect respect
From me?
To you I am nothing!
A facade,
a child,
a faded reason,
a listless memory.
Gods forbid I make you cry,
Make you feel any damn thing!
It is insanity to think,
That I struggle with these demons,
to be ignored and tossed aside.
It is Insanity, Incredible Insanity to think...
That I still love you...

If only the Dream
Of what you were
and now are
to me