My Escape from RealityWith my books close to my chest, I feel that they serveMore Like This
as my only source of comfort. Each heavy but not
nearly as much as the burden I carry.
I hear their whispers as I walk down the hallway,
like little monsters sitting on my shoulders
muttering curses into my abused ears.
Their stares pull at my hair
like little boys picking on the one little girl.
Tears as visible as air stream down my
I yearn to feel the love of friends
the happiness of family
and the comfort of a home.
But that dream is shattered
the moment I step into
Glares hotter than fire
itself send me spiraling
into my room in a storm of
Depression and anxiety
weigh upon my fragile
being like a hammer
sitting on glass.
I want to shatter
I want to break.
But something stops me
every time the door closes
on my fate.
Sometimes it’s a wooden pencil in my hand
that touches paper like a wand to air.
Other times, it’s my fingers lightly
tapping on the keys as