Oct 19
Each page of my life spread before me,
Are the smudges of my blood and sweat,
That left the splatters on each verse,
When things couldn’t get any worse,
My persona stepped in,
I became a bystander in my life
I was the image that faded,
When the pain became unbearable,
Stranded in the abyss of unhappiness,
My book, my pages, my ink and me. by Dorothy Checksfield.