Dear Page

Dear Page, 

I wish you could talk to me

when I wrote on you

that you could give me the 

answers to all the questions

I have tried desperately to 

seek here

on you

just a blank

page

to tell me if it felt right

when I poured my heavy weighted

thoughts on you

what you really thought

about the marks i've made

if the arrangement of these consonants and vowels

and where i put them

meant as much to you

as they did to me

but I suppose you were blank for a reason

even in moments where I tore you up

crumpled you up

and threw you away

the times i burned you even 

to watch the flames of you and all 

that ink smoke away

my deeply held hatred towards your 

resistance to being anything than what you

were meant to be all along

A blank page

a mirror

a moment of time

with love,

record number 0413-0417