Standing at the edge of the world
watching millions of stories unfold
I escape.
I’m an escapist, that much is true
but didn’t you know, so are you.
We all escape
in one way or another:
we repress, suppress smother
and escape
responsibilities and human error
ourselves, work and terror.
To escape
is a requirement, an endless need
something we hoard with all our greed.
Escaping this
mundane nightmare of my reality
in order to keep myself from insanity.
Escaping to
a place where I can recuperate
inside myself, outside of fate
with escapists
dragons and ghostly sendings,
magic, romance and happy endings.
Some escape
into their Wonder-Under-Neverland
with related characters hand-in-hand.
You escape
via games, music, youtube, sky
travelling distances while you fly.
Educated escapists
like Freud, believe in dreams.
A popular theory for many it seems.
And I escape
into imagination, rhyme, stories, books.
Outside, the world stares on and looks
blind to the truth in which we exist
but I admit loud and clear: I’m an Escapist.
