She flipped the book open to page five thirty-six
and found it filled with cracked hearts and tears, a lethal mix.

She turned to page four seventy-three,
a page saturated with sunlight, smiles, and coffee.

Rock and roll and dancing shoes were on page six o-seven,
her own personal definition of heaven.

Forward to page seven twenty-eight
and the plastic stick that held her fate,
the product of her period being one week late.
Oh, the smile of relief when a single line turned up straight.

The words on page seven thirty-one
detailed pale legs, a hot sun,
and the burn that was left when the day was done.

She turned to page eight seventy-nine,
a night filled with friends, movies, and red wine.

Page two twenty-two
told of the Sundays she spent sitting in a church pew
waiting for a belief in God that never grew.

Forward to page four sixty-four,
she read about a boy who she wished had loved her more.

Onto page eight thirty-five,
with caps and gowns and students who arrive
to receive the diplomas that release them from prison, alive.

Then she turned the next page and her heart sank,
as she found the smooth paper completely blank.

She realized this was where the chapter ended
and that it was time that she ascended.

This was it, the brand new dawn
the time to stop dwelling on chapters gone.

So once again she found herself putting pen to page,
allowing tomorrow to burst from its cage.