The creases across my
Tough bindings have softened
And smoothened,
As sinewy muscle does with disuse
And the passage of time.
But even with the sighs
And grunts of old age,
This leather fortress
Never permits the escape
Of even a single word
From within these sealed confines.
Don’t fret,
Your secrets are safe
Within the gossamer webs
Of my ruled lines.
Lines,
That are still discoloured by
The flowery patterns of bruises formed
From the sheer weight of
The words they are bursting with.
The ink
Still floods my leaves with all the
Confessions that lie in the murky
Depths of your words.
Your story
Is immortalised in the secrets
You have tattooed upon every
Inch of my body.
My perpetually shut pages
Form a tight embrace around the
Flowers pressed within my core,
Their sole comfort
As they mourn the loss of their youth.
They are my children now.
Please remember
That I have loved you through hurricanes,
Where tearful storms dissolved me,
And shaking hands tore me apart
At my roots.
Why don’t you come back?
Maybe tell me,
what have you been up to?
I’m sure I can spare a few
Stray centimetres
On some lone margin.
Come,
Come and carve fresh words
Upon me, would you?
For old times sake?
April 20, 2017 at 7:17 pm
Lovely!
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May 2, 2017 at 6:19 pm
Thank you! ❤️
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May 29, 2017 at 10:46 am
You are my favorite person on wordpress
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June 4, 2017 at 1:27 pm
Oh my gosh! Thank you so much 🙈😊 this just made my day
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