First Page

Its the first page of a new journal

Every other page bare to the bones

Like a kind heart after the world

Orders it from the menu

Every other line, space, and margin

The fullest empty vessel

My pen just punched a hole in the page

I guess the page isn’t thick enough

To hold all the things

My pen wants to say

But that’s what the rest of the book is for

Thats what the hundreds of little spaces

Beckoning to be graffitied are for

This page is just an introduction

A Prologue

To a story that most will never read

And even less will feel

But if all were to drink from the well

Then it’d cease to be a well

It would morph into the Nile

That all who heard would drink from

But, it is not the Nile

Nor Euphrates or the Amazon

It is a meek well

Built from bricks of untapped emotion

And mortar made of midnight thoughts

That most will never know exists

However, there will be those who

St     um bl      e

To it

There will be those who shuffle their tired limbs towards it

There will be those who will find themselves


Into it

And those people will drink from the well

With the liquid sliding down their throat

With an aftertaste that  

Makes them nostalgic of things

They have never seen

Miss people they have never known

And visit places for the first time

That they can only describe as Home.