I feel like an amalgamation

Of people I’ve read,

I’m Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse,

I’m Jane Eyre and the Queen of hearts.

I’m these courageous women who have been immortalized in paper,

And immortalized in other little girls who dared to turn their pages,

Those little girls live 6 lifetimes in a week,

Sitting on the bus in Chester

When they’re actually in Wonderland slaying the Jabberwocky.

Walking home when they’re really taking a stroll with Mr Knightly.

And they wonder why my nose is stuck in a book,

Why be in a car when I can fly?

Why walk on the ground when I can walk in the sky,

Why worry that days have gone by

When you just have to flip a few pages to change time?

Do people understand the true isolation of reading,

My heart is full of Elizabeth and Darcy but who can I tell?

And after the finale of their love, who can I turn to?

At the end of a book, we are just empty,

Because what is real life compared to a story.