Like an insomniac sleeping all through
You’re smiling all relieved and comfortable,
Simultaneously artificial,
Since you’re haunted by thoughts that are untrue.
You can’t sleep because you’re twisting, rolling
Those sugary white words over, around
The screeching notes of that blank warning sound
Tighter until it subsides. He’s holding
Your fingers in the rain and dewy dawn.
Idealist’s dream, realist’s nightmare:
Away from happiness because she’s there
Screaming your shortfalls and of lies he’s drawn.  

Credit where due, at least he tried to cure
Lost sickness but with a conscience too pure.