i've tried connecting the lines;
those pages,
those lines
but they can't even seem to intersect.
i've tried and worked for it
the ink bleeding through
the paper.
the lines are now connected
and yet;
incompletely,
not at all.
what i've worked through; for
is just the prologue;
the beginning
of all the lines connecting to
other pages. as i flipped,
many lines are yet
to be worked upon.
seeming endlessly,
i paused;
i scoffed and thought,
would my ink be enough
for those?
no, I can't
work yet upon the
next pages.
there are yet
past pages i must
work through.
and yet, why
do i feel like
the ink of my
pen
won't be
able to hold on?
why must i work
for this
anyway?
if someone had just
if someone would just
connected the lines
connect the lines
before i did
after this
if someone,
another pen,
another ink
would work through it
i think,
my ink,
without a wink;
would not sink.
if all the inks
would connect
all of these
i'll hold on
through this,
to connect the lines,
to connect to you.