Bookcase
I look at all the books I've written.
Some full of happiness.
Others with memories of pain and hurt.full with the trials in life.
I gaze at them.
Run my fingers through the pages.
And I read the stories and adventures.
The things that sculpt me to be who I am todag.
Reliving the moments. Some I which I could redo.
Others I would love to relive.
And those I wish that would stop haunting me.
Then I get to the last book.
Looking at this blank page.
The unknown.
A story that hasn't been written yet.
But it will be a new chapter.
Anxiety hits me.
But I have good hope.
Hope for a blissful future.
One with less hurt and more happiness.
2020-07-07 21:40:18
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