Bibliophile or The Book Lover
For too long I searched
In books with worn bindings half-hidden on dusty shelves
Or in bold-faced bestsellers
For answers from more experienced lives
To the questions
As if they have an internal calendar.
Unwilling to admit to possessing the opportunity
To fit my pieces
To write a life
Where self-knowledge is just a plot twist away
And becoming the heroine is less frightening.