flying into space

some are scared to be alone. others, thrive in empty spaces. i fill up on emptiness. it gives me room to breathe, to dance to my own tune. i could live in my attic, painting till dawn, sleeping on the splattered carpet and waking up looking like one of my abstract pictures. of course my husband would live with me, on the couch, reading. we'd both escape. we're often threatening to escape this existence called reality. nothing's been done about it yet. but maybe one day you'll see us flying high in the sky with our magic capes, and then later you'll find our heads peeking over clouds looking longingly at the world we've rejected.