Poetic Escape

I always wake up dreaming,

For a quick escape,

In a vacant parking lot,

Staring up at the equally aphotic sky,

Holding her hand within mine,

Her soft, soothing voice discussing simple things;

How her day was, her work, her school;

Discussing the simple things,

Ah, the simple things make this life great,

The simple things make this life real,

I turn to her,

Watching her count the limitless stars,

She turns to me;

Her pale face, her green eyes, her long brown hair,

All make her gorgeous,

Almost too real to touch,

But I do,

Her beautiful embrace is so warm, so welcoming,

But it slowly turns cold,

Too cold,

I turn to ask what’s wrong,

But she is fading away, disappearing;

Faster and faster; until she is fully gone,

I always wake up dreaming.

 

Poetic Escape.