Ink blots,
Words blur...
I can still
see the
pieces
of your own
person-
written between
the lines I've
penned when
I still have
the heart to love.

Torn pages,
erasures here and there-
I have tried to
write you off,
but it seems
I cannot ****
what's immortal.
More so, I cannot
erase what I
have written.

Tear stained,
scratched papers-
I have bled
enough blood
to tamper
the words I've
written...
But you...
You, I cannot
replace.
and I, I was
the only one
at fault...
It was my own
words
that made
you immortal.

*When a writer falls in love with you, YOU CAN NEVER DIE.