You said I was too good to be true.

If I’m too good to be true, then that means I’m unreal

I’m an ideal

A figment of your imagination

I only exist inside your head.

I am your fantastical fixation

A mythical, magical, elusive beast

A goddess

An angel

The answer to your prayers.

You put me atop a pedestal

And worshipped at my throne

Exalted in my presence

No longer alone.

You found your other half,

The missing part

Of yourself.

For I am but an extension

Of your narcissistic intention.

Your invention

A reverberating echo

That reflects back to you

Your halcyon revelry

Of who you imagine yourself and me to be.

The perfect couple

Peas in a pod

One and the very same

A mirror image

An exact fit

A match made in heaven

Forged in the fiery furnaces of hell

Because you have no concept of me as a separate entity

That I have my own, unique identity

You’re clueless, you’re oblivious to where you end and I begin

This is a real-life nightmare I am trapped in.

Until your dream bubble is burst

The illusion is shattered

The veil is lifted from your eyes

You finally arise from your slumber and see

That I am not you

And you are not me.

Wax-wings burned, spurned you come plummeting and spiralling and crashing back down to earth

With a bump, a jolt and a start

I have broken your false heart

Illuminated your lie

You stagger, reel and fall

It’s an alarming wake-up call

A cacophony of bells ringing out

Chiming and chiding

Making it clear

That I am actually, really not in the least bit like you my dear

Do you hear?

Hello, I am here.

So now I am your nemesis

Your counter-productive counterpart

Your antagonistic antagonism

Your foil

How it makes your blood boil

That I am not the idolised image that you sculpted of me

The masterpiece you fashioned from clay

To uncover and discover that I am oh so perfectly flawed

In many different ways.

I’m not a Stepford Wife

I’m not here to serve you

To attend to your every need

To smile and nod and agree

And be at your beck and call

You really don’t like the reality of me much at all.

So you knock me off from where you sat me up on high

And put me down

As I don’t fit the mould you shaped for me.

Truth is,

I never did.