Elusive Dreams

I try to hang on to her,
the lovely vision of what she was,
but lose my grip,
the girl and her dreams
disappearing before my eyes,
like vapor on a warm, sunny morning.
No one knows she's gone.
I grieve, yet find comfort,
in the death of an elusive dream.

But wait! I'm wrong!
Everyone knows she's gone;
It is me who is the last to know.
No wonder I didn't understand.
I saw her through layers
of filtered lenses,
each slowly and mercilessly peeled away,
like charred skin from a burn victim,
day after day,
leaving wounds most difficult to heal.