Like an abandoned book
You started with the opening chapter
Silly collection of words
Incomprehensible yet familiar
Felt a spark, took it everywhere after
Signed your name inside the front cover
Gave it the time of day
Combing over every detail, page to page
But chapter three was too much
It threatened to change your philosophy
It was unknown, uncertain, and risky
Showing you more of yourself than you wanted to see
Everyone knows you as something different
Seeing you so invested in a book would ruin you
You know they think you’re shallow
Picking up every book, knowing its title and outline
How could you dare read a book beyond the first page?
But you did.
You hid in the closet
Shielding the book from public eye
You masked your use of precious time
With little white lies
Clearing your schedule
You made it routine to read a page a night
The pages began to wear down and soften
The ink fading as you traced each letter
Eyes following a carefully trained hand
With emotions poured into each page
You knew no other book would speak to you the same
So you left, day-to-day, cracking open other novels
Engraving your favorite quotes before they went away
The book gave you a challenge
One you weren’t willing to take
You threw it in the ashes
Just having gotten to the hardest part
Pages wrinkled with the tears of another
Words blurred unrecognizably
You glimpsed your past
Stopping dead in your tracks
The words spoke to you, too relatable to keep close
You thought, books are the thoughts of others
They shouldn’t touch your soul
They are simply cold pages to turn
Boxes to check off
Lines to practice my trained eye
You wanted to skip ahead
But it sensed your lack of patience
Finally refusing to let you turn unread pages
You pride hurt, your ego crushed, your excitement hushed
You slammed the door
Book strewn on the table
Your favorite pages ripped out
There the book lies
Pages that no one will get to see
Because one selfish person
Couldn’t just let the book go in peace
Pages don’t heal
They stay ripped and torn
A testament to the rough hands
In which they were borne
And yet still, you come back
Rushing to tear out pages you forgot
Leaving a book that would have been
Better left un-bought
Your fear kept you afar
You gazed at a lone, flickering star
Wondering why this had to be?
Well at least it wasn’t as heartbreaking for you
As it was for me.
What if I told you?
Would you still have the audacity
Words sound good on paper, eloquent and strong
But they become thorns when you realize you were wrong
I can’t move on when you play with each emotion so readily
You were my gain
Now my pain
Now I’m just a stack of pages left in the rain
You took pieces of me
Leaving me gasping for air
Lost from the gaping hole you left
Searching for the happiness I didn’t know wasn’t there
But still, you walk, un-phased, unharmed
Through libraries of barely-opened books
Skimming a page here and there
Memorizing titles like equations
If you don’t love one let them go
Don’t let them stay and leave them alone
Books are meant to be read and remembered
Not slammed, forgotten, and dismembered
About the Creator
J Poetry
Find strength in weakness.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.