Posted in life, Poetry

Other Than Here.

Maybe I shouldn’t read

right now,

but books are one of the only escapes

I have –

Hiatus from the blue shadows

of life’s ups and downs.

They’re the thing

that allow me to lose

all awareness of the world

outside my mind

if only for just

a moment.

The universe inside

a home away [from home].

Books are my

down by the oceanfront,

watching the waves

carry my thoughts away;

Justification for the tears

I cry for the world

but don’t want

them to see.

They are the passport

to the places

I can’t freely travel.

Books help

feed the wanton need

to be someplace

other than

here.

Author:

Curating Personal Year 9. Wife and mom of 3. Writer. Zentrovert. Aspiring Engineer. Resident Badass.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.