Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Would you call it running away? I feel like I’m being slowly undone by my own head a constant buzzing, a weight I can’t switch off. I walk around the house like I’m half-present, answering questions I barely register, my face stuck somewhere between irritation and confusion. So I decide fresh air might help. Not exactly what I need— just the only thing I can afford. Freedom. That’s what I really want. I call it freedom. Some call it running away. Maybe they’re right. Because I want to leave, not forever, just long enough to be alone. To sit with my thoughts, to breathe my own air, not the one shared and reshaped by everyone else. But no— I get an hour. An hour in the library, hidden between shelves and the books I love, before I’m called back home. Maybe that hour is what keeps me sane. Because privacy isn’t something I’ve been given in a long time. I’m turning twenty next year, and I still wonder if I’ll still be here, thinking like this, feeling like this, quietly wishing for a little more space to be my own.
0
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 4:22 PM UTC
Running Away?
Would you call it running away? I feel like I’m being slowly undone by my own head a constant buzzing, a weight I can’t switch off. I walk around the house like I’m half-present, answering questions I barely register, my face stuck somewhere between irritation and confusion. So I decide fresh air might help. Not exactly what I need— just the only thing I can afford. Freedom. That’s what I really want. I call it freedom. Some call it running away. Maybe they’re right. Because I want to leave, not forever, just long enough to be alone. To sit with my thoughts, to breathe my own air, not the one shared and reshaped by everyone else. But no— I get an hour. An hour in the library, hidden between shelves and the books I love, before I’m called back home. Maybe that hour is what keeps me sane. Because privacy isn’t something I’ve been given in a long time. I’m turning twenty next year, and I still wonder if I’ll still be here, thinking like this, feeling like this, quietly wishing for a little more space to be my own.
Princess08
Written by
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 4:22 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem