i read for fun
what started as a hobby
became an addiction
soon it was my only friend
the one thing i could rely on most
later as i read
i felt only green with envy
more so than the trees, the snakes
it was an unnatural feeling
it hurt to read
to know the fantasies
i could be living
but will never, and could never
looking up
and seeing not faeries
but emptiness and disappointment
louder than a plane
quieter than a mouse
lonelier than a ghost
soon my escape
led to my destruction
if i could not live these lives
than i shall not want to live
-lana jane
YOU ARE READING
fly away poetry
Poetrya collection of self-written poetry for: those in pain those shamed because of who they love the people whose bodies have been taken from them the outcasts those that have had their mirrors become their own hell the unrequited lovers the people who...
