I’ve tangled myself into words for years
I used to not fold the pages of my books
I’d keep them neat, untouched and perfectly pressed
But I grew in a world where my corners were folded
My body was marked and my soul was wearing
So now when I hold a piece of a story I do not let it forget me
I tell it my thoughts with pretty colored pens
I let my tears stain the pages where my heart came alive
And I fold the pages on words that I can’t let go of…
When I open a book I build a home for a time
So if you decide to go inside one
Be gentle as I invite you into our two story home.