Sometimes, I wish I could
lose myself in these books,
stacked castle walls around me,
Get lost in pages
of Laws,
black and white on paper
that blur to
gray, mysteriously, as
they pass over human lips.
No more judgment, no
more standing up
to fight,
no more piercing eyes,
condemning words
furtive, nervous glances
in my direction:
I'm a disease no one
wants to catch.
No more demeaning,
defacing, teasing,
torment, hating, lying,
pity, scornful looks
if I could hide in these pages
forever.
No more the question:
- "What's that mark on your face"
