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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