Escapism takes over my soul, mind, and body,
She tells my lungs when to breath.
She tells my legs when to walk,
or more likely when to run away
from the other women of Reality I’ve yet to kiss on the cheek.
She tells my eyes when to cry
or more likely when to sleep.
She tells my heart when it’s ok to love and trust
or more likely when to fake those feelings.
She hugs me tight when I am scared
but is it truly the best comfort?
She tells me not to worry about a thing,
or more likely to just ignore the pain.
Escapism is my lover and my friend,
or She is more likely an enemy too.
Escapism controls my life,
She controls my every move.
She tells me not to look towards Reality.
Not to “cheat” on her.
But sometimes I need to see Reality.
To escape the grasps of Escapism.
To escape certain death.