’Twas noontide of summer,
  And midtime of night,
And stars, in their orbits,
  Shone pale, through the light
Of the brighter, cold moon.
  ’Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
  Her beam on the waves.

  I gazed awhile
  On her cold smile;
Too cold—too cold for me—
  There passed, as a shroud,
  A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
  Proud Evening Star,
  In thy glory afar
And dearer thy beam shall be;
  For joy to my heart
  Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
  And more I admire
  Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.

The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.

I am still a prisoner in this cage which only could be open by a key which you keep. You keep me hanging trap in this cubic set of bars and leave me suffering but I enjoy hurting myself no matter what. The times that I plan an escape something pulls me back which for me is an eternal gravity that I'm locked onto. A prisoner to a feeling and currently waiting for your judgement upon me which is to be with you or leave me as a prisoner to the broken promises we once kept.

I wonder if,
We could have grown up together,
our laughter in the playground, our chatter in the halls.
But instead, you moved away.

I wonder if now,
if you had stayed,
where would we be?
Even then, would I know your name?

I make up
conversations
in my head
constructed from the
words you never
say.

I still can't decide
if silence
would be preferable.

The best dreams take us to the most far away places,
where the ocean swells, or the desert winds howl,
the sun gleams across the rippling oasis,
or the air thrums with the hoot of an owl.
The best dreams take us to the most far away places.

We search, in circles, for the place in our dreams,
the place where we dance on the stars--
And we search until we scream,
Ending up in small town bars,
Because we can't find the far away place in our dreams.

No place of golden clouds and glory,
Of distant shores, and ringing songs,
No place of an endless happy story,
Where all of us belongs.
There is no place of or dreams--

But here.
We are not in that distant land,
We are hear, on this Earth, with all of the fear,
And we must learn to smile, and stretch out our hand,
Until our dreams stop searching for that far away land.

We must make our own far away land.