I wrote this when I was 14, in 8th grade. The title is Dreams.

My only sanctuary,
behind my eyes.
Am I going too far to believe
dreams can come true?

The only sacred thing in my world
are these fantasies
of what could be.

Stripped free of insecurity
expecting reality to be…
w\What’s reality?
In other’s eyes
it’s not the same.

But society’s reality
is far from everything I see.
And I’ll never be happy here

I’d rather drown in saline tears
than live in this sad excuse
of a society.

I will be free.

Alone
is better than captive.
And an imagined world
is fine with me.

Eventually everyone will see
the truth.
Or
I will depart.

I will find a place
to be
a dream.