I know that I'm not ready,
I know you fear it too.
If only I could open you up,
To all of your most tattered pages,
Feel the rips the others left behind,
And mend them one by one,
Piece together the scraps let loose,
Make sense of the sentences torn apart,
Give your story meaning,
By putting you back in sequence,
I can bare the cut of every page,
And swallow the pain of every word,
If only it meant that you would continue.
I would rewrite your beginnings,
Soften our rise and fall,
And give you the ending you always deserved.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 4:25 AM UTC
I know that I'm not ready,
I know you fear it too.
If only I could open you up,
To all of your most tattered pages,
Feel the rips the others left behind,
And mend them one by one,
Piece together the scraps let loose,
Make sense of the sentences torn apart,
Give your story meaning,
By putting you back in sequence,
I can bare the cut of every page,
And swallow the pain of every word,
If only it meant that you would continue.
I would rewrite your beginnings,
Soften our rise and fall,
And give you the ending you always deserved.