Drowning myself in books,
To escape the pain.
Internalization comes around,
When I come up for air.
Nonsense, I tell myself,
These trifling thoughts.
Figments of imagination,
I say, These intrusive thoughts.
I run and run,
From these lies,
When I stop to breathe,
They hit me with a vengeance,
From this broken mind.
This poem is about my experience using books as a form of escapism. I feel that it's something universal, though. We all have our safe spaces where we can shut off the world. Feel free to like and leave a comment.
About the Creator
Trista Harrison
I hope you discover, within my writing, something that ignites a flame within you.
check out my blog here https://www.tristaspoetry.com/
Support me here if you’d like :) https://ko-fi.com/tristaharrison
Keep reading
More stories from Trista Harrison and writers in Poets and other communities.
Let's Don't Do This
"I just can't do this anymore..." "Do what?" What can't you do? Put gas in your own car? I swear to God you make me take care of everything, don't you? You know I'm on my way to work right now but that never stops you from bothering me, does it?"
By Shirley Belk7 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.