Reading helped me escape
but writing kept me sane;
anchored, grounded–
…
Each word;
eloquent and descriptive language,
singular syntax, tantalizing diction,
cliffhangers that kept me on the edge–
…
When ink strikes parchment,
emotions leak from the blank ink pen,
blending and transforming
when salty tears mix with–
…
Plain, modern walls
Fade, wallpaper chipped, ruined,
Until it dissolves completely;
Transforming and molding
To the inner landscape in my mind,
Stark walls become tall trees
And the ceiling above–
Vanishes!
A nude stratosphere,
smudged with vivid pinks and purples,
broken occasionally with strikes of lightening.
…
As a young girl,
I bloomed too early,
the righteous path to the light lost to me
and blossomed in the suckling, parasitic shadows–
…
But as my eyes open–
feasted upon a gargantuan book
bursting with wrinkled pages
filled with adventure;
and a blank notebook
who hungered for metaphysical
and tangible pain
of various depth and flavors–
…
I realized, that I was finally saved.