Fantasy Girl

 There you sit in your world of fantasy singing melodies of sorrow and solitude. 
"Choose me," you strum in a harmony of sanguine melancholy.
"When will I be loved" you say. 
You choose heartbreak knowing that I have chosen you.
 You choose nothingness over my love, as if to say anyone except you. 
You and I drink from the same cup the wine of disdain for my affections towards you.
Neither of us want this.
I too am sick of my endearment of you. 
I've no delight in the hostage situation our friendship has become.
I want to resent you. I want to be free of seeing you this way. 
"When will my prince come" you say. 

Oh damsel fainting in distress, glowing porcelain skin and flowing dress
Your thoughts on love are a fabled mess as you set your heart to fantasy. 
You say "save me from this pain im in", and lock your heart away again.
hidden away from the adoring men, who would love you anyway. 

A lengthy list of the "he must be's" read loud over the "I currently am's" as you beg for signs and wonders. 

Miracles happened and why? 
A love built just to die?

I love you, I hate this, goodbye.