Paper blank with no words to write down
How can I run without leaving evidence of my existence?
Was I really that broken;
that with every chance I was given I had let go,
Let go of my strengths that carried me out through the war zones?
Paper blank with no words to write down
If only tears were words I would cry
If only punches were words I would punch and tear
Was it really that hard?
Or is the hard part
To tell the story again and again

Paper blank with no words to write down
Thinking if only I could create my image in black ink
Still does it make sense?
Would I be able to touch and still feel the same coco skin on that paper?
Would I be able to reach down to that heart and fix what is wrong?
Will I see what is not there?
Will I mark correct that is wrong?
Behold I will set a mark on this paper
Just a dot
And that’s where I will start
With just a dot
Then a,
A drop
A river
An ocean
And all that is life based on a true story