Figment

There is a figment of my mind

like an ethereal shadow

following me about

whispering sweet words into my ears

 

This figment is a fire without warmth

food without a taste

which can be consumed

yet relinquishes no nourishment

 

The happiness this figment brings

is  a hollow one

like rehearsing for a show

that may never go up

 

Yet happiness it is still

I leap and dance

my heart quickens

and my mind races

 

but will this whisper grow to a voice?

will this murmur turn to a song?

 

Or are you just a figment?