This white blank page reminds me of The stains that you left on my skin The blood you poured Like soup from a can Thick, and willing
There are lines on this page Similar to the ones On my thighs
The ones on the paper Are inked blue My thighs are inked With a red that seeps from within Seeps past my bones Past my skin Past my final layer Of protection
Protecting me from you Or protecting me From myself? After all most wounds Are self inflicted
This paper is straight With no curved lines I like how simple it is In comparison to my futile body My body, With complex arteries and pipes That twist and turn Amongst my bones and organs
The day I am covered With as many lines As an exercise book Is the day I will be willing to learn I will have enough lines To write on Enough room to learn The cavities of my brain will be free
Thank you for giving me This opportunity This thought process From just a single sheet Of paper.
Without you I would be
Nothing
I started off with the first line and it just kind of flowed from there. I don't understand how I was able to express this but I hope someone can enjoy it and understand. -Holly Jones 5/10/13