I want to bleed into the creases of the comfortable life you've built, the same way your favorite pen bleeds through the page of one of the notebooks you've collected over the years,
because the thing about bleeding ink is it makes its mark on the next few pages, even when you're done and finished with the original page you wrote on.
I want to be stationary and not the kind of stationary that is the home of your to do list or the things you need from the store that always ends up tossed into a pile on your kitchen counter and forgotten about.
I want to be the kind of stationary that a tree is: rooted and solid, but still moves and flows in the breeze
I want to be a defining point you come back to time and time again,
like a bookmark in a book you can't finish, not because of lack of interest but purely because other things held your attention more than I ever could.