He had a beautiful imaginary smile.
And used to look at me with his imaginary eyes.
His imaginary hands
touched my naked skin.
His imaginary lips
whispered an imaginary love.
My imaginary man
was perfect in my eyes.
My imaginary man
fell in love with an imaginary me.
Some day, my imaginary man,
I will meet a real man,
with a real love
for this real and flawless woman.
But that real man won't have
(not even the half)
the heart that my imaginary man
dropped to the trash can;
that heart that clings like a vine
to continue flourishing.
My imaginary man
didn't see in the dark
(but he saw nothing but darkness in me).
My imaginary man
was just in my head (everyone says).
But they don't understand
that my imaginary man
(the one I loved just because he's in my mind),
is the same real man that I will never stop loving.
will never understand how much I loved him.
Or maybe
(just maybe)
he's so imaginary,
that even though he understands it,
he never really cared.
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