Unapologetic actions
Like newspaper clippings
Litter my floor
As if to remind me
That things are written
By hands other than mine
My story has been set
By hands that existed
Long before my story was
Thought to be written
These hands have seen
So many stories
And some day my story will
Manifest
And its hands will craft and press
And ink and labor
The stories of others and others
Until the tally marks on the wall
Kept to count the stories I've pressed
Rival the clippings on the floor