Scribbles, Dust + Shelves

When it was done
she choked
and nearly died but didn't
She asked for all the pages of her
mind to be returned
She sent off stamps requesting
back herself
From all the learned
Perhaps she hoped her soul, now
clean, dissected and laid bare
could, perhaps, be found within,
the scribbles of her care
Would offer up some inkling of
The way back to herself
That, newly healed, she sat
Somewhere upon, a dusty shelf

M ~