Matchbook promises and needle thin pages
The pen pierces the paper
The ink leaks into the page and spreads over an old empty space
Pouring into time the moment the paper was no longer perfect and the second the pen soaked through
Ink like tears and words unsaid
If the memories are terrible who will be near when they get me?
Birds float through the sky
But the feeling is always there
Bubbling under the paper skin
Covering up from within
Telling tales of stories of the soul
Like a silent promise
Like the ink as it dried
The paper is beautiful even once dyed.
Elucidating Questions 
Leave a comment