Alone in my room the silence
fills me with wonder.
I flip the pages,
allowing myself to ponder.

How do I relate to a person
who isn't even real?
But reality seems to worsen,
and I don't know how to feel.

But in my book,
getting lost with very page
I realize this is all it took
to help me forget my father's rage.

My friends don't get it
this is the only time I feel like me
While another war is being lit,
I pick up a book and I am free.

For once my father is small,
and reality isn't real,
as I read I allow myself to fall,
Into a sweet escape where safe is how I feel.