I can write you a million poems
and I still try and hope that
maybe you'll come out of the
pages and reach out towards me,
seizing my lips in a kiss.
With my words I can only hope
that by saying them over
and over again that you'll come to life.
I know that I was careless before
and let you fade back into the pages
of my storybooks,
but I promise you that if
you rise from my pop-up book
that I'll grab you by the hands
and pull you close to me,
and I promise that I won't let you go this time.
YOU ARE READING
I Was She
Poetry[Complete] A series of poems and short stories tell the sad tale of a breakup, of rejection, and of finding new love. From losing her soulmate to learning to see the world from a different perspective, M.A. Rivers writes down every last feeling that...
