Escapism Redefined

The books smell old
Flipping the yellowed pages
Knowledge grows

There is no silence in the library
But it is still quite

My legs are folded up on the arm cahir
Where I have rooted myself,
Slouching deeper into my escape

There is an empty chair to me left
No, not empty
I can feel someine there
I can smell him, pine sweat and blood
He is my hero, my savior, my rabbit hole

The term escapism is not often applied to my religion
You seek a stack of books
I see a way out

When people look at me they see
A person who aviods reality,
But really I am avoiding you

They critcize
They scold
They act bold.

I frown, I am timid
When I open my mouth
The floodgate of thought and feelings
Won't open and rush down the hillside,
Slamming into them

Diving back into into books
More words, more meaning
I drown
I drift

He is gone, the presnce in the chair,
Now all that is left is me
A silly girl with a pile of books,
In a rugged old arm chair

The library is empty
It smells of moldy books,
Without the rabbit hole the library sucks