Escape

She was quiet

For the moment

All the torrents

Of her turmoil storm

Had ceased

She was quiet

Her tears had finally

Stopped

Stopped pounding

At the shuttered windows

Of her soul

She found comfort

In the purring

Of a cat

In the worn

And tattered cover

Of an old paperback

She had read a million times

She was quiet

Now

But the tears weren't yet

Dry on her face

Now she brushed them away

Impatiently

She had no time

For such trifles

There were entire universes

Contained in a page

Waiting for her parched mind

To drink in

As if it were dying of thirst

And reality was

A sun-baked desert

That she longed

To escape from

Her only comfort

Was

That purring cat

That familiar book

Her only escape

From a world

Full of sharp edges

She could catch herself on

And bleed out

There are no sharp edges here

Only the warm softness

Of a friendly cat

Her only friend

And the gentle curve of the slope

The dangerous slope

That a timeless good book

Pulls you down

Down

Beneath the undulating waves

To the depths of the ocean

Into another world

Another time

A blissful escape

From a world

Full of the sharp edges

Of broken things

That bite and claw

At sensitive skin

And tears on her cheeks

That never seem to dry