Her heart and soul are made of poetry

Her blood runs thick with ink

She’ll write your part in her story

With the pen inside her thoughts

So many pages inside her brain

Crowding what is here, what is now

Many people have read her pages

Skipping through words and phrases

It’s been awhile since someone dug deep

And found the pages settled in dust

The ones stained with marks of pain

The ones curved with drops of tears

There are poems she turns over to hide

And poems she keeps pushing to the front

One for each moment in her memory

For each person who has come into her life

Endless stacks of paper

Ink footprints on her heart

Some with just one sentence

Some with a very major part

She writes and writes to remember where she’s been

Holding on to what has been done

Hoping to find that maybe one day

She’ll be able to write a lasting one…