In the uphill battle of accomplishment,
During the deep, dark days where hope is a memory,
One must look upon the walls to read the writing,
Needing to feel upon the lips and fingertips, encouragement.

Being strong isn’t easy, but it is necessary,
In the days when giving up seems like a relief,
Always in those days, I fall asleep,
And wander into the woods.

Those woods, those woods in which a thousand prayers have been prayed,
Some to beg God to take them away, destroy them,
Some to beg God to switch wakefulness and dreams,
Some to beg God to tell me what I am to learn from them,
If that is why they still exist.

Please tell me why they still exist.

These woods like a time capsule,
Like all the days lived between, erased,
And your face, your smile, your smell,
My fingers on your cheek,
So real, that it aches,
It burns.

And in those woods,
In your arms,
I am happy,
I don’t want to wake up,
Hearing your voice in my ear,
Your heartbeat against my hand,
I don’t want to wake up.

This isn’t mine and I know it,
I tell you so sometimes, if I remember,
And always, always your look of confusion,
Breaks my heart…
Over…and over…and over…

Is it wrong…
To want to stay…
I can’t ever tear myself away,
Always I hold your hand too tight,
And when I know that morning is near,
You say the same thing,
“Tomorrow” or “Later” or “Soon”,
And I wish you could remember,
All the conversations had,
That you’ve been saying this…
For years and years…
And still I cannot tear myself away.

I tell you everything sometimes,
Other times I just let you hold me,
Because this is my safe place,
My sanctuary,
Where everything is ok, no matter what,
Even if it isn’t real.

I must remember with time comes healing,
Every day I wake up from the woods,
I repeat that to myself,
Tear after tear,
Until the next time those woods come for me.