I’m an old book

My spine is bruised and cracked

My cover is hard and carved with an intricate design

My pages are dog-eared and worn

Torn out and tossed away

Words are highlighted,

Scribbled out, scratched out,

Edited

I tell of knights and dragons

And Wood-Elves and goblins

And sometimes ordinary girls who stay up too late

I tell of visits to New Orleans

And screaming, jumping, feeling at concerts

And sleeping until 1 pm on your friend’s chair because there’s only one bed

And going to Wal-mart at one in the morning just to get cheese-filled pretzels

I tell of running through the forest in your best friend’s backyard and cutting your foot on barbed wire

And not even noticing until you get back home because you were having fun as only children do

I tell of going to the Fox River late at night and watching the moon and the stars on the ripples

And of a girl who goes to the library every weekend to read, sometimes 10 books at a time!

I tell of United States History and English Four

Of Psychology and Biology and even Interior Design

Printed inside my back cover is a map

Full of “wilderlands” and portals to whatever story I am

When someone decides to read