Dear Lover,
there’s
a book
with love undead
leather bound
bleeding red
here’s
a book
that holds our souls
its wretched chains
and filthy folds
here’s
a book
with hopes unsaid
of dreams that lived
but now are dead
here’s
our book
all out of time
of love we put
on a deadline
here’s
a page
ripped from memories
of things we said
but didn’t mean
this
is us
all leather bound
our memories burned
into the ground
it
seems this hurt
knows naught of dying
so we could bleed
for all of time
and
if you could
apologize
we’d hear some truth
and bury lies
then
leather bound
with love now dead
we’d rest in peace
all swathed in red