i hate to admit it....
but i'm scared of you. the amount of effort i'll make
to satisfy these blank, ravenous pages.
i'm feeling transitory lately. hope
the feeling is fleeting - writing in
eraseable thoughts, i think, is
a sign of my changeable mind.
it's not that i want to disappear,
but i'd like to make sure
i'm capable of change.
never static, always bending
(just a little)
evolving into yourself]