A Dagger of the Mind

a vapour in my brain

I created you

and gave you a name.

You're not real, damn it,

despite what I think

when I dream at night

or have a drink.

You are there

To creak the stair

to move the curtains

with a gust of air.

You conjure memories

that frighten me

and then retreat

to the safety of dreams.

I hate you--you're dead,

but you don't care

you refuse you leave

and only stare.

Like Hamlet's Ghost

Back from the grave

have you come to change

mistakes you've made?

Perhaps the times

are out of tune

for you to catch

fresh glimpses of the Moon.

I pray each night

you'll go away,

but my real desire

is that you'll stay.

Yes, I complain

I'm afraid,

and yet I pray

stay, illusion, stay.