I lived my life inside the pages
of all my favorit stories.
Time and time again
I was whisked away
to fantastic worlds,
where I was able to
fly on the backs of dragons,
cast spells with cackling witches,
and explore far away galaxies.
A reader lives a thousand lives
each more exciting than their own.
I emerged myself inside my books,
until they were more real than my reality.
Paper people were my friends,
fictional relms my home,
I took on the identity of my characters,
and lost myself completely.
For a time, I lived there happily
between the lines of my stories,
but I had isolated myself,
I had cut myself off from the world
and attempted to join another,
one I could never truly be a part of.
Print on paper cannot replace
relationships and human interaction,
nor can it bring you the joy
of a friends laugh or a mothers hug.
Books were not made to supersede your life,
but to enhance them.