Nothing quite captures the, “college feel”
As running,
Almost but not quite,
Late to class,
Several photocopied book pages,
Packets,
Handed out by the professor yesterday,
Tucked in a w shape,
Around your, my, middle ring and pointed pointer finger,
The dark crevasse made by spine height,
Etches a deep rift in the center of a work,
Or a piece,
Or a section,
Making readers take running jumps,
Hands and feet forward,
In order to reach the other side,
With some,
Falling ****** Tunes,
Into the dark lofty abyss.

I’ve never been in control of my feelings.
They drop on me like a pile of bricks.
And I am too weak to carry them. They overtake me.
The only thing in the world that is powerful enough to give me respite:
Is a good book.
I become lost in the story, and I can forget my pain.
I am enabled to leave this world and enter a happier one.
But now I read the same few comforting novels over and over.
Because I am terrified of reading ones that I can’t immerse myself in.
Terrified that my one means of escape will prove as pointless and empty as real life.

Understand and know me
not just by reading
the summary and the prologue.
Read all the chapters
until the last period
where I bared my heart.

I stepped into your apartment
I saw you reading
  sipping coffee
I saw you go to the fridge
and muse at its emptiness
I slept with you at night
we dreamed together
        you didn't see me
but I was there
       when I went to leave in the morning
you looked up
         quizzically

Books on the shelf
The pages yellow with age
marking time's passage

The feel
Of my hands
Turning the rough
Pages of a worn
Out book.

Staring endlessly at
Little black letters.

Who could have known
That it would make a
Girl so ecstatic?

…

How I dream
To embed
Myself
Into the
Mythical worlds
Built from words.

How truly amazing
It is for
Someone

To create
Such
Magic
With a few verses.

Alphabets morph
Into words
Into sentences
Into Imagination
And one day

...Into reality.