She hovered around books
Talking to mirrors and times to self
Pretending being a small child
Probably a compensation for the lost.
Busy in a reveree
Neither awake nor asleep
Assuming, thinking, imagining things
Probably escaping reality.
Working like a maniac
As if everything an emergency
Not a moment to even breathe
Probably blocking away thoughts.
Constantly trying to escape self
Something was intimidating her
Her energy or silence
Probably snatching her peace away.
Unable to comprehend reality
She sought bliss in avoidance
Ignoring and pretending the reality
Is escapism really a beauty?