I can't do away with a broken soul, nor can I fix all the pieces. So I'm tearing out the pages of me, to ease this pain that never ceases.

Scribbled verses set in margins, that make sense only to those who choose to see. Erasing all the unspoken truth, that made a prisoner of me.

Dog eared pages I intended to revisit, one day when they made sense. Learning lessons from Humility, yet I've bent at her expense.

What is written in the book of me, no one would want to read. Demons sitting in the darkness, bickering over what they prefer to feed.

I put it all to paper, now I want to destroy it in the end. This book of me has come to be, my only confidant and friend.