You.

You were a blank page

A compendium of blank pages,

Bound together and stained by the madness of life

To tell a story with rings of coffee and ink,

Or even ashes.

You strove to fill your pages with irreplaceable, non-erasable memories

and with blood.

Now, you miss your blank pages and wish for some eraser,

But don't forget about the butterfly wings and all the trapped within things that used to make your heart sing!

Keep making messes between your pages,

Spill your existence within and fling those pages open wide.

Darling, your messy pages are the art of your life,

And believe me,

Every single one deserves to be read.