A young girl with wounds to mend --
No stitches. No bandaids. Only a pen.

"What does this do?" she asked herself.
She picked it up then retrieved paper from the shelf.

Unknowingly, she began to write;
Hands still working late into the night.
Pieces about flowers, waves, and stars met the pages.
If you let her, she could sit there for ages.

Eventually, she realized what the object could do.
It could mend her wounds -- make her as good as new. 

And here we are now.
It's been years since then.
I'm a teenaged girl with paper and a pen.