When asked where their hiding spots,
their "sacred" places
were, the typical answers

were: my room, my friend's house, my
car, my basement, but
I was not comfortable

anywhere. Not my own home.
Not under my skin.
Pondered but could could not find a

Place so peaceful to unwind.
I explored every
Corner and crevice in my

large and lonely house in vain.
Found no place worthy
of my happy, my sad, my

precious thoughts. Alas, I was
consumed by all the
despair and desolation,

such of vagabonds. "Dear book,"
I cried. "You alone
carry the burdens of the

twisted human mind! Bless you,
the solitary
place that holds my emotions

so sacred, so vulnerable,
so painfully real
Peacefully til' kingdom come.