A Life Made by a Paper Heart
In this deafening storm of my mind I'm stripped.
I seek a shelter of words that bring my resistence,
And terrorize my soul beyond their meaning of simplicity
Yet what is it you see that reminds you of intricacy?
Can you read the pages that have created this book
How it will end? The details of this ardor are still unclear.
Can you write the epilogue that will be my life story
Or will you simply read it after a dusty shelf life of boredom?
In these pages, my life sits undisturbed and undiscovered
Safe from critical minds and contemptuous people unlived
I will remain impervious to the point of my own insanity
For this paper heart will continue on untorn and enchanted.
~Me
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