Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
gravygod Apr 2016
you said you can read me like a book
but you won't tell me what my pages say, or how many there are,
what my chapters are titled, if they even are titled
i want to know
who my introduction mentions,
what my author's note says,
and who helped me with the theme
but honestly, please
at least tell me about the chapter where you appear
just let me know if it ends well
I realise only now that its true when people say that I get lost in my books. I could start off on chapter 12, and then a while later, a time i have absolutely no knowledge of, I see chapter 18 printed at the top of the page. I get so lost in it that I don't even realise that I get lost in it. That's how much I love books.
Julia Elise Mar 2016
163 pages in our book
all empty but 2
filled with words you cried to me
everything spoken true
the first one says
I love you
the last reads
I love her too
thinking about the last time I saw you.
Angelina Jan 2016
I promise not to press you between my pages,
You're beautiful because you're so alive.
AfterImage Jan 2016
A tender touch down your spine,
Unfold your delicate rib cage,
The ink that is your blood,
The stories you hold
Pulsing beneath the title that is your skin.
I wish I could read you
Just open you up
Find all the things you won't tell me yourself
I'd know how to love you
How not to cause you pain
I'd know how to make you happy again

I'll open up for you
Show you all of my pages
Even the torn ones barely worth reading
You can pick at my spin and play with my heart
Just promise you won't tear me apart

Just let me read you
Let me in
Tell me the stories hidden deep in you're pages
I want to know where you've been
I want to see where you'll go
I want to be the best lover you will ever know

I'd never tell your secrets
But I'll show you mine
I'd never expose you're fears
But I'll share with you mine

I want to read your story
And know it all that I can
Hold your hands
Watch as your book grows with mine
Until maybe one day they both combine
Erika Castaldo Dec 2015
fictioI watch as the words become images;
People, places, adventures.
They become an entirely new world,
A world separate from reality.

I stare at the pages
And let the screaming fade into the background.
I get lost in the words
And the chaos becomes nothing more than white noise.
I watch as the character’s lives play out
And ignore the grief that plagues my own every day.

I am content in that realm of fiction,
Happy even.
But after a few hours it’s over.
They’ve completed their quests, found their true love,
Discovered some sort of meaning in life.  

And I’m stuck once again in the horror that is reality.  
A place where there aren’t happy endings,
Where you aren’t eager to know what happens next, but fearful.
A place where you’re trapped,
Where you can’t just close the pages and ignore it when it becomes too much.
The only solace in this place is
Knowing that you can open another set of pages and
Escape into that other world
Once more.
E n i g m a Nov 2015
I will call to you in the thorny wilderness,
If only you would comprehend each syllable of my name.
I will scream out in roses laid before me,
If only I didn’t know of the precision it takes to use a knife,
I will recite all the different train of thoughts that consume my being,
Often leaving me stranded in the abyss,
If only I was not a product of emotional turmoil,
If only you could turn my pages the way I longingly brush through those in my books,
But I’m just a lifelong series of disturbing motives,
So I will not call out to you,
Even in my darkest dreams,
Somehow I will find the strength to forgive you when I lay my entire being down,
But until then,
I pray that God forgives me.
Leah Anne Oct 2015
It is a road less traveled yet even a
long abandoned pathway has to end.
As I tried to slowly raise my foot off the ground, I caught my breath in desperation to pause the moment
only to find out that time is a moving picture playing continuously without mercy.

There will be this one fascinating thing which will come to take over most of who you are only to pass,
Fluttering its wings to an escape,
Dissolving into air.
I try, withstanding all my will to resist, to anticipate the arrival of the dark reel of film where the closing credits will soon roll in.

My body shivers as I wish to preserve the remaining last few pages,
But shivering might break my bones and I know
That it is a terrible, torturous thing
To want someone who wants someone else.
...
September 23, 2015. 1:18am
Aayush Rathod Oct 2015
With misty eyes, I now sit in my room,
While the birds and the trees choir outside,
Bidding to ravish my soul with joy,
As I recall my past, or think about my future.

How cruel my life is,
To give me such a feeling-
That I love solitude,
But loathe loneliness?

The moments I live, I die,
And the moments that have died,
Live, and make me sad,
Make me cry.

And if ever was I to be happy,
When is it, Will it come?
Or will I lie still, in my room,
Alone and Weeping,
On these scented books,
Whose pages now feel like blades-
Bright and blinding?

And then what,
Will I die too,
The same way as I live,
Lonely and Weeping...
Next page