I wanted to believe that we could become, 

A chiseled rendition of my imagination 

A bed of clouds where peaceful sleeping could be obtained 

Without lucid 

Without daydreaming and building something that didn’t 

Really exist 

This was real though 

Our up close 

Our personal 

The trust you placed into my hands like 

Warm bread. 

How nice it would have been to stay there 

Staring 

Then moving as slow as a ballad 

Without time’s restraints 

 

I’ve held you once 

While your secrets spilled upon me 

 

I’ve held you twice 

As you poured your all into me 

 

I’ve held you 

Then you went back to the shackles 

That have stained your wrists.