Thank you; I'm sorry

Horizon crease the sun,
I brace for my next interrupted delusion.
Grey-bearded Reality takes my hand,
He sits with me and reminds me
how horrible we have been
and what I might do
to be a better friend

Alone in my room, I have a terrible fantasy...
I cry myself into a fit,
wanting someone to know my pain
hiding in shame my open-soar vanity

So I hold the only thing I know,
wanting much more, I settle for a pillow.
For monkeys do much better
when they don't wrap their arms around their metal cages...
Stuffed-animal mother, I adore your image.
...and thank you for the power to dream.
Reality, thank you for your striking sense
...that I can make some small change,
and still know
that it's never enough.