Not like the people who carefully
open the cover, leaving it at a 45 degree
angle so they don't crack the spine
and carefully turn the pages so they
don't crease the paper, collecting
seemingly untouched books on their shelf.
You don't love me like the people
who download files onto their kindle
turning the brightness up when
the sky gets dark and they have to strain
their eyes to see the words on the screen.
No, you love me like a book
that you had immediately split in two,
severing the thread holding me together.
You doggy-eared your favorite parts,
creasing the paper until it's a jumbled mess.
When you finished the book, I had expected
you to put me away and forget about me,
leaving me to collect dust on the shelf.
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 discovered me,
before you had immersed yourself
into my story.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Portfolio
PoetryI'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.
