Bound

I believe I am the culmination of the pieces of pain I have collected like Pokémon cards. I started the collection at ten, and I never stopped. They're tucked away in boxes filled with handwriting I don't recognize anymore. A bookmark for stories I started but never finished. Some slipped under my bed...I keep meaning to clean under there. Some are shiny, some are worn, some are lost. I keep the memory of them anyway. They're etched into the ink of tattoos now littering my skin. I'm a walking keepsake. A treasure. A scalpers worst nightmare. And still I believe I've made peace. One day I'll fill a binder of the cards, and be able to flip through with a smile. Today isn't that day. But I believe it'll come. That's what matters.