The idea of a clean slate
So new and smooth
With it's ****** appearance
So innocent and wistful
Covetous
Longing to be written on
To be destroyed, broken
Ruined

Is there such a thing
As a clean slate?
Is starting over
New and clean
A real thing?

There are multiple slates
that have resided within me
Multiple slates,
Both new and old,
Pristine and ugly,
Untouched and scathed

A slate for love
For that one special person
Perhaps it will take many people
Many slates written on
And ruined
Many slates wiped clean
Before I meet the person
Who will not destroy my slate
Or cause me to wipe it clean
But rather illuminate it
And make it so beautiful that
It will never be touched by anyone
Ever again

But until that time comes
I can only hope
That I will be able to find them
Because once I do
I will hand them a single piece of chalk
But I will not force them to write on it
For I have learned it best
To not force anything onto that slate
It is not my place to do so
The slate belongs to me
That is for certain
But all that is put on it
All that is drawn
And written on its surface
Belongs to that one person

If it is meant to be
It will be
It will meander its way
Both humbly and patiently
On its own time
On its own endeavors
Until a masterpiece is sketched
Both beautifully and with much ease
And before I know it
I will be full and whole
Once more