Between

B
  
Between the lines
There is a space
An empty space
Stark, unfilled
In this space
Between the lines
Weaving stories
I write my lines
I’ve scratched through my past
Birthed scribbles onto blankness
This is me, defined
Between the lines
Perhaps the story is not me
A plot created from my fear
A padded room of words
More figment than fact
If truth be told, I’m frightened
By the space between the lines
I’m not sure
I can live unscribed within this place
So creator of my scratching’s
I fill stark space
Than risk, to
Live in between the spaces

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badgerslabyrinth

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