A book is not important

It is a rectangle on a shelf.

But a story is full of questions

Things I whisper to myself.

A story is full of magic

And things that hiss and bite.

But if you delve deeper

You’ll see things darker than night.

A heart full of darkness

A claw sharper than a knife.

A see those beady eyes,

Then I run for my life.

But these dangers are just stories

Things I cannot touch.

And a story is inside a book

And I know I’ve read too much.

A book is nothing at all

Just another useless thing.

But never forget the stories

And the dangers that they bring.

Every day,

We get out of bed,

And it's the same routine,

Going through our head.

We go to work,

Or to school,

We do what they want,

We follow every rule.

Lies are whispered,

They go into our heads,

We believe we are free,

Because that's what they said.

Are we humans?

Or are we just dumb bears?

Because even if we aren't free,

No one ever cares.

I've been involved with a very handsome and popular man on and off for 2 1/2 years. I'm a very fit, sexy and attractive woman who is also quite popular. He is 36, I am 54.

Frankly the only thing that causes pause is that I'm beyond child bearing age. Physically I am thru menopause. My having my own child is not going to happen. I joke and say my eggs are hard boiled. He wants another child. I fear that he will sabotage rather than being able to let go and be friends should his desire become a need. Our connection is very strong and people can actually feel us.

I appreciate this opportunity to vent...thanks.