Murmurs of unspoken words echo around the books
She sits alone, yet not lonely
She does not talk but she says
To her friends in between the pages
Covered in ink, and protected by leather bindings
They were better than the people
They showed her worlds you cannot see with eyes,
Hear words you cannot hear with ears,
Feel life you cannot feel with fingers,
For the patterns on the page;
Were more comforting
Than the people,
For the people
Didn't comfort her at all
