Some learn between the lines

Some written neatly with ink

Or disheveled

With the liquid of the inner soul

Hidden within the depths of our minds

Our vision manifests

Thoughts of love and heartbreak

Etched inside the journal

She kept beside her bed

Timeless marks

Throughout the spiral of life

Even when our graves beseech us

And we become food for worms

Our souls depart

But our vision remains

In that hidden journal our young self kept

Should we have showed the world?