All my friends live in books,
Take refuge in the folds of a page,
Hide in the spine of a novel,
Yet they always welcome me with open arms and comforting words,
Their ink and paper perfume draws me in,
Weaving an intoxicating spell,
Commanding me to do nothing else for an evening but sit curled in a favorite chair,
Discovering their secrets,
Solving their mysteries,
Deciphering their love codes,
The spell never seems to break,
There always seems to be a paragraph left,
Another library to discover,
One more secret alcove carved by all minds seeking refuge from reality,
Yet all my friends must eventually retire to their respected shelves,
The rousing witchcraft that drew me in,
Suddenly felt weaker,
Responsibilities heaver,
Hidden alcoves smaller,
Busy city streets longer,
But that spell never completely abandons me,
It is always there,
Offering the escape I so desperately yearned for,
I always revisit my friends,
And they never complain.
***
I have real human friends too, but characters are always so much more appealing. To me anyways.
Kisses <3
YOU ARE READING
Shit Happens
PoetryThis is for anyone that can't put there thoughts and feelings into words. Whether it be at your best, worst, most beautiful, or most tragic times. These poems will remind you of them. Or so I hope. Because I mean Shit Happens. What you should expe...
