please (don't) stop

It's this air.
It subjects us to beautiful thoughts and wondrous ideas, and then
tells us that it is not ours to have.
Why do you taunt us so?
There is much to love without having created.
Admirers.
Where is the line?
In my mind crawls babies of epiphanies,
my potential genius.
What bars them?
You.
You, with your fanciful promises
of unending happiness, storage of
fulfilment, and loving lies.
You hinder my growth
by not letting me live
as I ought to.
But I have made you,
you exist as some delusion
of Mine.
Yes, you are but a thought,
a potential ideal
in a 3D space,
that has failed me.
How unbecoming.
You are mine, my creation
that deems to possess me?
Am I subconsciously claiming Myself back?
I will never understand you,
you are Unfinished.
robotic.
clipped.
We cannot exist in togetherness;
We cannot exist apart.
There is a train of my thought
that binds me to you.
We do not feel alive
unless we are hurting,
is why.