Escape

the word splurge that cometh from a brutal writer's block. But I'm disinclined to open an account and not write anything, so, here we are.

For just one summer week

The rest of the hectic, all-too-vast world disappears,

Leaving only one room-

Cramped, crowded, without any air conditioning.

And in that room I get to let down my guard

Not to be overwhelmed by insecurity,

But to feel good for a rare while,

To feel powerful and brilliant and larger than life,

An instrument in my arms and my fingers moving quickly,

The floor beneath me is shaking and the room is rumbling at my will.

But even in this escape, there remains a door,

That leads to the parking lot, and from there, the rest of the world

Where power and presence become sticking out like a sore thumb,

Grace becomes gawkiness, and I come back to being, well, me.

But in that room,

For just a few blessed hours,

I'm someone else, someone better.

Author's Note

Please give me tips on how to be a better writer in general. I'm still toying with word economy and all of that jazz (also punctuation), so if y'all have any suggestions, then I am very, very willing to accept them.

Reviews

[A.G.]

Awesome poem. I enjoyed your writing style in the poem "Escape". Original. I look forward to reading more of your writing. Thanks for sharing 😊
-Angelina

[Bell Spalding]

Well, thank you very kindly, Angelina!

[A.G.]

Your very welcome Bell ☺️