When the lights get dim, and the shadows creep in,
Many people find themselves to drift,
They go to a new place, some where inside that’s been described as an escape,
A utopia, somewhere only alive in dreams,
I don’t believe in this,
I don’t make up a completely new zone just so I may sit by myself and lament on the world around me,

My happy place,

It’s lying on my bedroom floor at 2:34am in almost complete darkness,
It’s the feeling of warmth from laying on someones shoulder,
I don’t go there, I arrive,
I sit in the glory of myself growing bolder,
Lying on the floor isn’t one simple feeling,
Its the anxiety of the future, the depression of the past,
The hope of tommorow, and the memories of passed,

Happy place

A feeling which is agreed upon more in society,
Everyone wants that side and not the consequence,
Light without shadow is blinding,
Yet society bathes its eloquence,
It’s disgusting, and yet there is no substitution.
It’s a drug that acts like a warm hug, till you realise the hole it dug, and you see it begin to shrug at your demise.