Question

I dug this up and edited it because I was bored. I don't remember exactly when I wrote it. Sometime over the summer. It turned out pretty decent! 

Out of sight and out of mind,

I sit and half-escape into

some gripping tale, or pictures kind

which hide your face from view.

I find some solace in my flight

away from time and memory,

and thoughts of you, for any might

awaken loneliness in me.

All stories end, and fantasies

are crushed beneath the weight of all.

My thoughts turn back to you and me,

and I am forced to face my fall.

I said I'm yours, and you agreed.

I fear that I have been remiss;

you never have belonged to me,

nor been as thirsty for my kiss.

Now I sit and wonder when

I'll have the courage to defect,

knowing I cannot defend

against your impish smile's effect.

Knowing that I'll love you still,

realizing that I'll hurt within,

I see now that this fate is ill,

and either way, I cannot win.

Are solitude and one more scar

less painful than to hear the lie

that you are mine, then seek your star,

and find only an empty sky?