Glass Walls

Seems like centuries ago,
that I felt what it feels like,
to be wanted and to want
something I cannot have.

I built my walls,
of stone and ice.
Walls so deep,
and unforgiving.
I try to lock myself in,
and not feel a thing,
resisting primal instincts
and signs from above and beyond.

And then you came along,
and pushed your way through,
battling the ice,
breaking through the stone,
right till I can see you,
beyond a wall of glass;
a shiny veneer,
of what is real and what is not,
standing between us

The glass fogs,
as you put your hand on it,
beckoning to me.
I follow,
trancelike,
as if I'm surreal,
a ghost,
I am not sure what I feel towards you,
but I like being wanted.
Oh, the elixir of desire and attention,
awakens ghosts of the past!

Then I realize,
that I feel what it feels like,
to want something that I cannot have.
So I plaster the glass with mud.
Opaque now and dark again,
I blot you out of my heart.