Tuesday, June 11, 2013

The Book Filled With Lines



And no matter what patterns of ink these pages absorb it does not make anything any more or less important than it originally was. And as you eat my thoughts the way they used to I can't help but wonder if they taste any good or if they are far to sour. And every line I draw, every squiggle I etch down has a purpose and a meaning. Please just don't devour my soul as well.

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