I took what I saw in you
and built gilded archways
and skyscrapers until you were
a huge, lit-up building
that held everything I'd ever
dared to imagine

and for a while it's been easy
easier than standing alone
to look in your windows
or open the door
and see your raw truths
laid out everywhere
with secrets under the beds
and dreams on the love seat
sometime during all this
looking and searching
the days slipped into months
into years that I spent
walking from room to room

and I forgot that

you are not this building
and the windows I built
have and will never let me
look straight into your soul
you are not brick and fiberglass
you are warm flesh and
blood rushing through green veins
and infinite thoughts

and it's time this building
came crashing down
into dirt and smithereens
but I don't have a bulldozer
and I don't have the heart
to pick apart the bricks
one by one