The consequences of your love felt like closing the cover on a used book.
When you came into my life my pages had been clean and untouched, the spine of my pages sewn together tight.
Buy you had opened me up right in the middle and broken the thread I had used to keep myself together, you had taken a pen and had written on my pages how I had made you feel, you wrote about the times I had made you excited, how many times I had made you yell, laugh, and cry.
You had bookmarked all of your favorite things about me, keeping me stashed away so that one day you could open me up to remember those scenes you love so dearly. Your tears had created damages on my pages, leaving crinkled water marks, evidence of the pain I had made you feel.
And when you turned the last page and closed the cover on my book I had expected you to put me away, to never pick me up again, leaving me in the back of your bookshelf to collect dust.
But as you turned the last page and gazed upon my used body, I was surprised to see that you had found me more beautiful than when you had first found me, before you had immersed yourself into my story.
---------------------------------------------------
A/N: Inspired by an off-handed comment about how books should be loved- connected it to actual human love....
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Portfolio
PoesiaI've got a lot running through my head, I suppose I should write it down. Poems I have written- just decided I may want to share them.
