A fake smile
for a quick picture.
A forced laugh
to show that your okay.
A lie
to make people happy.
An 'I'm sorry'
for something you didn't do.

I feel empty; like a void.
I don't know how to fill it.
It's just there.

I know now; it's you that fills it.
I feel whole, like you're magic.
It's not here anymore.

But once you leave it comes back.
Once again, I can't fill it.
I'm just empty.

Look at the books.
We don't understand them,
Or their titles.
They're meaningless to us.
Nothing but pages and ink.

But to someone, somewhere
These books mean something.
They will trigger a connection,
An idea, an emotion, or anything in between.

Every turn of the page
Something different happens.
You find something new;
Something you never saw coming.

You're pulled in by the first line.
First word even.
You just can't get enough.
It's something you will read again.

Books are just like people.
You can read them and judge them;
Or you can feel them and love them.
Just be careful though.