I am an outreached palm and a blank page, waiting to be written. I have offered you pens and my pages, and even my heart mixed in with a plate of your grandmothers homemade cookies. I have even cut off my back to keep me from turning on you, and my heart may be the old motel your mother warned you to stay away from, but the second it saw you i knew to turn on the lights and fold the sheets to make room for someone new, and i apologize for these sheets have frayed and the shutters might creak in the storms, but i have bid you my all in a risky gamble of love and i will continue to do so in hopes that i might win a place in your heart, like you have in mine