My Life On Beige Brown Paper

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Each of these times I decided to take the pen
Each of these moments the feeling in my chest,
Propels me to write something down on a piece
…of beige brown paper I leave a bit on my self behind
It’s like I’m not left in the words themselves
But I’m just that glow of blue ink before it dries
Before it gets absorbed by paper and as unfelt wind blows
I fade, I fade in that drying of my blue ink,
I fade, I fade as the ink stains become words,
And I know that when you guys hear me read these words you’ll think
I am expressing my thought, my art, my grace, but I pity, I pity…
I am only trying to find back that feeling of self, that warmth in the chest,
…that I once felt. Even sadness is warmth when you put it on paper
Even the times I used to wipe my tears because I thought men didn’t cry,
That moment is warmth when the ink is not yet dry
Each of these times I decide to take the pen
Each of these moments the feeling in my chest,
Propels me to write, I am only feeling alone, I am only trying to look at those
glowy footsteps of blue ink on beige brown paper, caramel even…

So if you’re so fortunate to like what you read just know that
A small part of me dried with the ink
A fraction of me is gone, only cold words can explain
Only cold dry words can truly remember who I once was
_The one who thought that life was kind
_The one who thought that love was real…

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