books
are polished structures
that can be broken down
into parts, paragraphs, phrase
at first you were a book
with structure and story,
with perfected lines
edited to fit on
crisp pages of white
except you carried a melody
that sings without sound,
you had ink
that makes the pages tremble
with your thoughts,
you had melancholy and rhyme
that cries against my insides
and I wanted those moonlit words
engraved into my palm
so that when we held hands
we'd feel your words between us
as I whispered my own
and then you were a poem
I couldn't write,
breathing prose and peonies
into my ear
YOU ARE READING
poems for you. always for you. ✓
Poetrypoems for you. poems for the ex best friends and the lost 'forevers'. poems for the memories that burn and fade before burning again. poems for the emptiness that is heavy and hollow in hearts. poems for the fleeting, fiery moments of happiness that...