I love when things are written for me
We may not be on the same page
But we're in the same book

It's beautiful to live life with lively characters
Whose depth can fill the void on an empty page
And turn that cage into magic to be woven from our inspiration

We spend a lot of time trying to escape our lives
But that's just it
We keep on living even if we go about our days chasing a fate we're not keeping up with
We can drink away our memories
Or spend an age online, invested in the drivel of another vapid daydream
Or we can live our lives in the making

Sometimes we live between pages
Between lines of words unwritten
And I find myself getting sick when I see packs of people in different stories intersecting mine
Like ravenous wolves, starving for a piece of meat
While I want only to exchange a few words from my story
With another person in the same book