Every page, an ocean
Every word, a ship

I read a lot, so when I finish reading one book, I always have another to keep me going. Sometimes I get too sleepy, so I read one chapter of the new book to fuel me through the night. It's like getting a new episode of a show each week. The first one is a teaser, and it drills you on and pushes your mind to go to incredible places, and when you get a chance to continue reading, well, that puts your heart into a place where it can soar and fly, withering through the skies.

Let me be the cursive lines that flow from the black ink to your torn up notebook.

Let me be the harmony in your ears
Let me be what you write about at 2 am

Let the thoughts of us transfer to your pen
Flow from your mind and onto the white blank page.

Ten to Eleven.
Eleven to Twelve.
Twelve to just One.
He closes his eyes and hopes for a masterpiece
yet only he understands the pain of the pen.
Those late nights under the light of the lamp fire
nocturnal writing like a literary vampire
The cramp in his hand is definitely a price worth paying.
he writes what he dreamingly sees but is seemingly free
from the outside world.
But what he does write will remain on a page
longer than he will remain on this planet.
A perpetual shell with remnants
That will forever be his companion.
The page is our best friend.

If open books suddenly close,
So the fears I've written can never escape
And the creases in my mind where you marked your place
Once again become whole,
I'll fold what remains
And carry it in my pocket;
I've never met someone who could turn a page so lovingly
As you.

Rubber scrapes
words
thoughts
answers
questions
secrets
facts
mistakes
o­ff the page
eating them up,
they never existed.