It’s an ode to myself
the one enclosed in this ink
in the middle of the page
as a symbol of a heart
that got rhythm
after years of silence
thanks to my pen only.

My hand hesitates above the button
"Unblock"
Just millimeters away from my fingertips
Pieces of your life could appear in seconds
With just a little pressure
Yes, I know last time this hurt me
But maybe this time will be different
What's one more time
Just one more visit to your page
Gently the button clicks and your name disappears
I search it and easily find your page
A lot has happened since I last checked
And it's funny because
Even though I'm reading them
The poems themselves tell me nothing
Like mine, theres no way to know
Who it is you are speaking of
Though every so often
I read one that hits me in the gut
It makes my heart hurt and my stomach curl
Because I'm almost sure that
The person you're writing of is me
And you are still hurting
You're still angry at me
I want to like the poem
I want to open a door for you to see
So maybe I can help give you closure
I'm itching for you to talk to me
And as my finger
Renters a state of hovering
Over yet another virtual button
I realize that it wouldn't help you
I'd only be hurting you further
And I don't want to do that to you
I realize that my missing our friendship
Is solely a desire of mine
And it would be cruel
To drop in on your life again
I'm sorry for what I did
And I'm sorry I'm struggling so much
To let that piece of us go
But your feelings about me are clear
So even though it hurts to read
Just how much I destroyed you
I think it's just what I needed
To stop getting my hopes up
And to stop pressing your buttons

Musty smells and dusty shelves
Many places in the pages
Where to go and what to know
So many choices, echoes of voices

Gentle handling, floorboards rattling
Once was great, now lost to fate
Still treasure inside, their value magnified
Stories of old, worth more than gold

Well I'm like a weird book,

With pages unnumberd
And stories not told.
With a cover that's bended and not carefully folded.

you don't know it...

But I can't
I just cannot rip out pages from my journal
you do not understand

The only thing you understand is...