Denouement
My hardcover is worn.
I thought leather was thick-skinned.
Spine is gone but I manage
to hold myself together.
Tears bleed the words
and each page, a crime scene.
Writing about you
is such a murder sentence
Period
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writetheimprint
I built dreams for you but they are now haunted abandoned buildings. I call them nightmares of the forgotten. You can find me holding the world without hands. Connect with me! Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/writetheimprint Twitter: @writetheimprint YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/poethearchitect
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