Oh… My… Rebel..

It has been an adventure to chase after you.
Your iridescent light
Softly tempting, rushing over my skin,
And sliding over my lips. Love fleeting.
But I’ve grown tired of chasing a
Golden star of cheeky flirtation
While avoiding competitive stares.
A game? A desire? A challenge! 
I’m bored of love going
And would now prefer love coming, or even staying?
To not only feed my own need for attention but also to return it.

My rebel, oh my rebel. Have I outgrown you?
It’s time I refocus my attention.
Never having truly studied the lines and wrinkles your image now possesses.
It has been years since I dreamt you up as a child. 
A face hidden behind a luminous shimmer and a pompous laugh.
I have longed to actually meet you
Instead of trying to capture you, 
Standing alone amidst your seated conquests.
My rebel, oh my rebel.
Without my blind emotions,
Will I recognize your revelry?
Transformed from figment to flesh.
Could this have been my most wicked game?
For years I played a siren while all along conjuring
My greatest illusion: where head and heart worked together
Tricking my true desire to travel a lonely mile.
I awaken myself.
One different than the others.
Kept alive as almost your equal.

I’m sorry my rebel. Oh my rebel.

Were you never real? 
But a ruse I created to entertain myself. 
Plot twist rather than a love story. 
Merely a child’s belief to protect her luxuriously red and fragile heart.

My own clever sham, appearing real while keeping the prize at arms length.
A delight I no longer want to wish for but instead — live.
To say goodbye to your subconscious portrait and hello to the risks of reality.

And yet my rebel, you remain all I have ever wanted.

“The Original Rebel in the 50s” Diner in Massachusetts