Ink, paper, and me

January 9, 2012
The ink is my blood
The paper is me
And the words written are my scars
You can read them
See what they have to say
But I'm pretty sure there's not much there
My pages are blank

You see it's hidden in each little line
In between every single letter
And if you ever find the time
To read and see what I'm hiding away
Don't be afraid to tell me
Cause I may just need someone to see

Laying alone is never easy
But I'm doing the best I can
The scribbles and tears
The affect is slowly wearing off
I'm not so scared to feel ugly
I'm not to scared to be me
Cause I was unfolded this way


Crumble me up and throw me away
My scars have nothing more to say
My blood runs thin
I've used up all of me
And still I feel no one can see
Put me away, in a box
Take me out on a rainy day
And maybe the water marks can explain

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