My Life is screaming at me because
I am not really living it

I am eating
and sleeping
and acting this part in this play
in this Life

but I am living galaxies away
I am living and breathing
other people's lives
in this nostalgic way

While my body is lazily
flipping pages
my mind is racing
my soul is crying out
for these people
these stories I can
hold in my hands
and caress in my mind
but never truly live.

I am alone
clawing at dreams
and wishes
wanting to just be held
as reverently as I hold these words
but remembering it is
this room,
this bed,
these books
that are holding my body
back
....while my mind still wanders