Every night she looks up at the moon
and dreams of faraway places
where the ground isnít cold
and the walls arenít lonely and silent
with regret

Monotony comes with the struggle to survive
food on the table and sheets on the bed
escape comes in the form of H.P. Lovecraft
a torch and a starry sky lit up by the only guardian angel
sheís ever known

She reminds herself every new moon
that just because she canít see her pock-marked guardian
doesnít mean that heís not there
because unlike everyone else in her life
the moon isnít going anywhere

She writes mini sci-fi stories
on napkins and the back of receipts
and pins them to her bedroom wall
interspersed with the photos of Mars-like beaches

Dreaming isnít just a past time
itís a way of life
a reason to get out of bed in the morning
because hope is a candle sheíll never willingly blow out
when there are books to read and far-off galaxies to explore
beyond the horizon of her guardian

Every night she looks up at the moon
and dreams of faraway places
believes that only astronauts are free
and space will be the salvation of her Earth-tethered soul
if only she can reach out and touch the rocky face of the only man
sheís ever loved
before jumping out into the interstellar black
and a freedom that only the endlessness of space can know

© Indie Adams 2014
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published | Edited 31st Aug 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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