My Last Page

What if I wrote you

A poem.

No stanzas,

No rhyming,

From the last white page

Of my notebook.

What if it was my summary.

Every time I laughed

Every time I cried

Could they equalize

Each other?

Could we equalize

Each other?

What if I told you

That I was lonely.

That this last scrap of paper

Was all of my comfort

Wrapped up in

The death of a tree.

What if I told you

That I wrote what I needed to,

But it wasn’t enough.

No editing, it was too real,

Too wrong.

I won’t write you a poem

Because I can’t.

Because what if I told you

That my hand keeps moving,

That it can’t follow my rules.

This is the last piece

Of my sanity, my story.

So I hope you enjoy it.