Spilled Ink

"Be You"

"Be You"

I am two different things.

It just depends on how you look at me.

To the outside,

I'm a book.

People will tear through my pages just to find

The page of me they want.

That i'm happy,

Sad,

Broken,

Perfect...

They never reach the end of the book...

Because on the very last page it says exactly how I feel.

And to anyone who's read my work,

Or anyone who knows me for who I am,

I am a feather and ink.

I write who I am,

So that when the nights get cold,

And in me,

I have to light a fire below just to keep warm,

I can see who I am,

And I will never be lost again.

I once lived in the land of the lost.

I'm pretty sure I might still be there.

My life has faced hardships and trials,

But I have also faced good times.

Heartaches and heartbreaks,

Along with joy and passion...

...

But isn't there passion in the heartbreak?

I still live in the land of the lost,

But only because,

I cannot be found!

People who try,

May lose their mind,

Because in these plains,

I'm one of a kind.

I am red and black.

I am the color that brings mourners to tears,

And the color that makes a bull stampede.

I am calm and explosive.

Funny huh?

How I can be two things at once?

But last time I checked,

If anything,

The ink is usually black,

And that brings me back

To what I really am.

The tears are always near,

My cries are always shy,

And my heart always has these aches.

But that's okay!

I'd rather know who I am,

Than have myself made by someone else.

So look inside yourself.

Find who you are and see yourself for you.

You may not like what you see,

Just like me,

But I'm telling you,

It's better to know who you are,

Than let someone else decide for you...

Be you.