The Real World

I crave to read the stars,
To follow their path,
To feel hunger as I hunt my prey,

To satisfy my own needs and roam the land,

I wish to look forward and far,
To rolling hills,
To the burnt amber blanket of the sun,
To the space of darkening light where the edges of yellow fade to sienna,

I wish to run straight through these concrete walls,
Past all mechanical noises and into her welcoming arms,

Into a cast of green and blues where my eyes are filled,
Filled with her wonder,

Undisturbed,
I crave her true pain,
Bruise and cut me,
For all I need is the real world.