Letting Myself Go

I sit here, poetry book in my lap,
and scan over the words.

I sit here, against the wall,
escaping into a new world.

The deafening noise and the
pressuring strife

soon fade into the dark,
as goes on the night.

The page’s verses brighten my mood,
their soft and gentle voices pulling me in.

They whisper words of emotion into my heart,
making my rising argument dim.

I dive face first into the feeling,
letting it completely silence me.

I feel the words’ waves roll onto shore,
the water brushing against my toes, as I continue to think.

I taste the salt in the air,
the soft breeze on my face

as my eyes scan over the page,
its words taking me to a new place.

I drift into visualizing
what the lines describe,

my world changing before me,
right in front of my eyes.

At this moment,
I don’t know where I am.

I’m lost, but not unwilling
as my emotions overflow my dam.

Slowly but surely,
I climb back to reality.

I shift my gaze
to study your face in front of me.

You’re totally engrossed
in the book you’re reading.

Wait, what?
It’s the same one I’m reading!

Your lips pursed together,
your eyebrows knitted...

It seems like you’re very busy
focusing on it.

I smile to myself
as a though comes to mind.

Did I look like that, too,
while having a good time?

In details of poetry,
it’s easy to let yourself go.

While reading a poem,
a well described picture your mind will show.