True story

Meticulously I scan through the pages of my brain
They were blank with the exception of numbers at the corners of every single page
This book was worn and over used with several creases
And a book mark present tucked tightly to its  spine
The bookmark was a strip of funny pictures
Taken by the writer and her younger sister
On a trip she made to visit her for thanksgiving
Page number 28 is the page that was saved
The cover had a black background showing the feeling underneath
But colorful vibrant letters depicting what others see
Its a deceptive presentation only the OCD can precieve
There was one picture on the soft cover
It was a detailed picture of an eye highlighting the pupil, wide
Because they always say through the eye is seen the truth
That's the only place a lie truly cannot hide
The vibrant yet bold title illusivly read this is the end
But flipping through the pages, where did it begin
See this book in my mind is the story of my life
And just like its pages I too am still blank