The Marks You Made ...

You scrawl your mark on the paper as you do on your own skin ... Marking the times of pain and emptiness ... Pen or knife, all danced to the same tune your heart plays out and your soul harmonizing along ... The paper for stories and the skin for memories ... Each marking down a certain time or place your mind and your feeling is in. Each stroke has a story, a plot and a reason but hopefully it won't be the end. I can't speak for everybody, maybe to a selected few or maybe even none ... I hope the words I put down, can be related to so you know you are not alone.