Lost in between the pages again.
Just like all the days before today.
In between the words and the lines is everything,
And that’s where I get my biggest fix.
When I lose myself like this,
I become another person,
And live another life,
And teleport into another universe,
Where reality doesn’t exist.
All what’s real is the page and the story.
My personal escape.
My personal refuge.
On my shelves are a thousand worlds and a thousand lives,
And I’ve explored them all and lived them all,
And they’re mine to explore and live again.
Some are fiction and some are non,
But all are wondrous, glorious things.
How amazing is it,
That I can pick up a single item,
And be transported to another time and place,
And see things from another point of view?
I am worldly.
I am traveled.
I have been everywhere,
From the comfort of my chair,
Or my bed.
I have loved and lost.
I have been a warrior and a royalty.
I have been man, woman and child.
I have walked in the shoes of a thousand beings,
And learned from their journey.
Yes, this is my escape,
My pleasure,
And my passion.
I am a ****** for the written word.
I need my literature fix.
Pass me a book,
For there are volumes waiting to be read,
And I won’t stop until I’m blind or dead.