I Don’t Want To Drown In Dust

 My most prized possessions can be found on Paper.  Something about the ink makes me want to be Taller, Makes me want to stretch my arms out until they get So Tired  they (decide) to transform into Pages. I want to be turned. --( permanent.) I want to be touched. Folded, Crinkled Tear Stained Ripped Numbered Filled to the Brim I want to be opened and closed in the same day. I want to be remembered and stood up to Rest upon Shelves. I want to end in the perfect moment. (I want to end in all the perfect moments) I want to be protected from the  rain and held in hands, frequent. Want to be hard backed with one spine,  maybe two.   I don't want to be judged by how many pages I have to offer. or how heavy I am or how dark my Cover Is. or the words inside me, or my ink or where I'll fit. I don't want to drown in Dust on the top shelf of what once was paradise. Don't want to be used as a stool to Step On-- or a weapon for your fears of insects. ( for what you think is