Bound in leather this notebook reads,
a thick skin wrapped around fragile pages-
filled with fragile words.
The scribbles and scratches of an untamed mind stain each piece with conversation,
dialogue to another person.
The perfect me.
The one that lives on the pages.
The one that humbles me, and reminds me that mistakes can be forgiven,
And most often, forgotten.
So when I open this book,
I’m greeted by a mirror.
A delicately grim apology
That begs forgiveness.
And it seems I am forgiven.
A new page, means new lines,
And that’s life really.
A look at yourself.
Page upon page of scribbles and scratches-
Day after day of humble conversations.
Everyday is a new chapter, though.
A chance to tell a new story,
you’ve just got to find the thick skin
to hold it all together.