I am a book. I am fat, full of pages within my hardcover. My home is on the shelf of a library but I rarely get to rest. Ever since I was first printed many people have taken me home and opened me up. Their reaction when they open me, laughter and tears and smiles and gasps leaves me to wonder what they see.
I am a book. I hold a story but I don't know it myself. I have seen glimpses of other books stories, written on their backs, but it just leaves me more curious. What is written on my back? What is written within me? I must be wonderful if so many people borrow me from my home but I don't see how something that makes a person cry can be so good.
I am a book. I dream one day I will discover my own story. Someone may read me aloud like one of the children's books. I imagine I am not short considering my weight so I would not be surprised if this dream were never realise. But I can still dream.
