And I grab your hand, because I know you understand.

Outside my window sits the,
Not so damning dark,
Calling to me softly,
And tells me how to start,
To find joy in simple moments,
And in every sight see art,
And hear within my forest,
The remembered song of a lark.

The cold wind bites me,
Reminds me I'm alive!
Not trapped or clinging on,
Not barely managing to survive,
Not near death or recovering,
No, I live and I thrive,
I don't swim in happiness,
I jump and leap and dive.

A soft laughter leaves my lips,
Echoes around the sleeping street,
And no one sees as I run,
With a girly prance in my feet,
That I know I have to hide,
If acquaintances I meet,
My one wish is that one day perhaps,
I won't have to be discreet.

My dream is to be me,
In the real world not just here,
I've been longing for long hair for so long,
But I know that I'll seem weird,
So I am content, for now, to be myself,
Only when alone, unseen.

The fresh, crisp air fills my lungs,
As I lie back beneath the shaded moonlight,
My view obscured by the outlines of leaves,
I lie there,
By myself,
Alone but more importantly,
Myself,
I lie there in a simple white dress,
Though darkened by the night,
My ebony hair still a few shades blacker,
I lie and sing softly to myself,
As the stars dance in my eyes,
And I plead with them to hear me,
Despite the distance,
I lie there beneath a clear night sky,
hearing muffled suggestions of reality but,
Ignoring them in favour of peace.
I lie back,
And smile softly,
Content with my own company.