I am an essay.
I am a delicately carved, yet actively changing
piece of work. Hours I spend carefully synthesizing ideas
to create a perfect blend. I need help. I need peer edits,
except that those are not enough. My author carefully ties
strings from sentence to sentence, but sometimes the
concept spider web isn’t connected in such a way
as to capture an audience.
Others try to erase what my author has written, but she has
written in permanent marker. The ink sinks deeply into the fibers,
clutched and held dearly, never to be taken away
so long as the paper is not torn or shredded.