trying to fill another page of this book with my story,
sewing in new sheets of paper to build some space.
Space between me and the page saying
Turning the pages, looking back at some from many years ago.
I read about a little girl, happily exploring the world.
She doesn't know about pain or despair.
Just look at her glowing eyes.
Progressing in the story, a few years later.
I watch a little girl, crying, covered by the blanket.
She doesn't want others to see, 'cause they'll just laugh anyway.
In her home, she has no room.
The whole house is filled with her father yelling.
The whole house is filled with her mother crying.
The only place for her sorrow is deep inside herself.
Just look at her puffy eyes.
Skipping a few chapters, years of searching and hoping.
I hear a little girl, laughing loud.
Nobody heard her screams when she needed them.
At least, when she's being loud, the notice her.
Being lost and out of control she hurts others.
When they scold her, they look at her.
Just look at her pleading eyes.
Going through pages of her trying to understand what she's done.
I hear a little girl swearing she'll never hurt anybody else.
She'd rather hurt herself to cope with the severe cold of this world.
So she builds a wall to keep everyone out,
to trap the wrath inside.
But she forgot the fear was already there.
Just look at her empty eyes.
Flipping the pages to read the ones from a few weeks ago.
I see a little girl drowning in tears and self doubt.
Apparently the wall she built long time ago is still standing strong.
A lot of 'Wanted' posters are hung on it from both sides,
but neither can reach through.
Just look at her anxious eyes.
I'm sitting here crying,
hoping my tears will wash away the letters on these pages.
But they won't.
So I'm sitting here sewing pages.
Hoping one day I'll read the one about a girl who's come home.
About a girl who tore down the wall,
about a girl who built a place in a house to live in.
Until then I hope to have enough strength to put
space between me and the page saying