You Broke Heaven

few more pages

I never fold the corners of my books
it's too disrespectful
I think more than me abandoning them
In between the lines with pages
Often holding my tears
Protecting me, helping me escape
I still leave them, incomplete
I find this action mirroring myself lately
Incomplete.
all of a sudden taking in words
Have become task,like pouring them out
even though my veins are brimming over
Lingering with aftermaths of spring
Lusting to be all over the pages
I often leave my unread book near my pillow , on my bed
they see how at nights I cannot sleep
how I'll scroll through unnecessary things
and still refuse to touch them
even though when I promised to love them forever and more
they still expect nothing
yet I lie to them and add another book to my shelf
I keep flower petals as apology
And see them wither with time
Just all the while, I break like a dying flower
they look at me with love
or I try to find love in things
still waiting to pick up a book
and not care to reply to anyone
but me this time.

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P/N: Lately I'm struggling a lot with writing and reading.

Even though I want to I just cannot make myself do it.

And it annoys the hell outta me.

Despite that I'm going to selfishly ask to vote and comment!