i am a novel
in the library of the world,
whose pages full of stories
are not meant to be unfurled...i sit quietly
in the lowest shelves
watching visitors unravel
stories of other novels,and yet
i remain a novel,
my chapters growing
with years and agespanning genres
and cliches, and themes
that never in my dreams
would i achieveuntil i become
a masterpiece, worth
the bestseller's list
yet i remainin the lowest shelves,
gathering dust,
as my author refuses
that her life be unfurled(3.20.18)
YOU ARE READING
reconsideration.
PoetryWhat a thrill to be a thought: thin as a film strip, thrust into a cacophony. Yet it's funny how I've met my loneliness as a friend. I've searched for my soul in heated hands and histories, token treasures and stolen homes. All that came was a hollo...