When you read my words
you don\'t see the lines on the page
but the curves and contours
of the woman I could have been -
a hastily scribbled outline
of who I could become
if only someone could see past the letters.
And when your hand brushes across
the indents in the page
it is almost as though
you dip your fingertips into my mind
and pull out what you see in me -
no longer a tangled mess,
but an intricate web
of fine details
and deep thoughts
that nobody else quite understood.