Escapism

Packed pub, grinding bodies, music thumping.

Feeling the beat pounding deep in the bones,

Alcohol frizzing the bloodstream, crumbling the walls,

Lowering the inhibition, slowly, gradually.

Feeling his hand on your waist, swaying to the melody,

Cocooned in your own universe, only you, the music and your rapid-firing mind.

Depressing, self-loathing and hurtful thoughts are embracing you, chilling you to the bone,

Taking another big gulp of the sedative alcohol, pushing them back,

Turning around and kissing your partner, passionately, deeply, drowning your thoughts,

Losing them in the feel of his lips, tongue sucking yours in, stealing your breath,

Silence, warming your bones, chasing the chill with his energy, with his lust.

You sever the connection, gasping for breath, and they attack viciously,

Gnawing at her mind, fervently, clutching her more forcefully, afraid of the light.

Monsters of the Dark, Lords of the Shadows clawing and scratching at her mind,

Seeking her attention, needing her submission,

The big bad fearless demons are afraid… afraid of his influence, of the sweet nothings whispered in her ears.

His caressing hand, his loving words defying their claws-deep influence,

The thick thighs, he’s grabbing and pulling her back to him,

The bulging tummy, he is caressing with his thumb,

The curvy love handles, he is squeezing admirably.

Whispering his appreciation for her curves, her lush body and soft skin.

Grabbing her face between his hands, he captures her lips in a searing, soul-consuming kiss.

From the outside it seems like they are lovers, partners drunk on each other,

But it’s much more than this, their souls are soaring high, demons vanishing, hiding.

He provides her with the best escape plan, better than alcohol, drugs and the hardest of sedatives,

He is her drug, temporary drug for momentary silence.

A bright light in the haunted house that is her mind.

The purgatory, grey zone that is her life.

It’s just her and her all-consuming emotions, but for once, they don’t tempt her to reach for the razor.

She is drowning in euphoria, floating in rapture.

Imaging more than the next few minutes, hoping to live another day, glimpsing sight of  the sun after years of darkness.