I lay prepared awaiting for you to tear away my chance to be filled with creativeness exported from thoughts.
Why is it so hard to let me be and trust in the fact that although I may appear blank to everyone else, I am a staple of opportunity guiding serenity.
I remain intact all the while punctured in preciseness when angrily assigned lines vertically align the right and left of me.
Even when torn, the neatness of which I was torn is smooth and explains how each page is of the utmost importance as the last.
Whether if I'm together among the rest of my relatives or the lone wolf, I won't cry sheep.
I intend on being full of mental greatness one way or another while torn between the two.
Separation anxiety never rears it's ugly face here nor does fear so let me be or prepare me to be used in this deposition.
Yank me from the spine as my backbone allows a piece to be subjected to a utensils purpose.
Even after this devastating detachment, my edges hold scars of the action of R.I.P...Never to die!!!
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