Escape Everyday

This story is not about me it is fiction. But the message still holds true, I hope you like it and I will be writing more, coming soon.

In this little house of mine,

Woe and terror were betrothed.

The fear of death was always certain.


Nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. I flung myself against my pillow. I thought it would guard me, defend me from this home. With volatile batterings bleeding through my dome. Everyday I suffered

Everyday I was alone.

Those insufferable nights, where I knew I wasn't home.
 I wasn't welcome here, they often would say. But then why is my heart beating? Why do I have a room to stay?

I had no answers, no reasons for my days.
My only escape was through writing and I found a pencil one day. Wrote on anything I'd find; Tissue, napkin, anything that I could, to escape and write away.

I escaped from perilous dungeons, I conjured worlds where there was no pain, no beatings daily, no food being thrown away. I of course thought that this was my way to escape. To leave this world behind and escape the violence in my life.

I wished someone could hear it, the things that I would say. But when it came time to show them, they had all but gone away.

But then one day changed everything. I saw that a window was unlocked and if I could undo the latch, then I would be free, free to run away. Share my words with those, who were in a situation like my own, show them that there is a way to survive, in this crooked place called home.

I undid the latch and was free and I ran as far as my feet could take me. I stumbled through hills, wooded forests and rivers. But eventually I made it, to a world that I once thought had never existed, a place where you are appreciated and loved. As if it didn't matter, from where you'd come from.

I finally was able to do what I loved and still do to this day.

Write stories for the people, whose lives that they'd wish would go away.

Stories of freedom and hope for tomorrow. Be free to escape and don't give up, until you've seized your glory. They'd make it out I'm sure, just like you or I.

Who would finally escape,


Escape, everyday.

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed