If my life were a book
I'd be written in and torn apart.
My pages are punctuated with a fishing hook
You may read it in the dark and the light.

My life will be a novel
No picture book found near here.
The writing sprawled in codes, so very hard to tell
All the words underlined.

If my life were a book
I promise to save each chapter for you.
It's the only part I travel to
Rereading parts of just us two.

Your name shall cover the book
Your life is what shines through the pages.
I'd beg for someone to make it while on my deathbed
And I shall be there full of life while lying there lifeless.

If my life were a book
Chapters one to ten would be torn out and missing.
It'd look more like a small notebook
With all the racing memories all coming and going.

The text of all sizes
From all the yelling and whispering.
From all the hidden faces
From all the cuts and now makings.

If my life were a book,
You'd beg to lock it far away.
To keep away from all it took
Even acknowledging it'll all still be at bay.

You'd tremor while turning the page
Except for beauty, only to receive ugliness.
With all the barriers that are brought with age,
You'd be faced with the opposing cages.

If my life were a book,
You'd wait for all the small parts within the lines.
All you had to do was look
You'd see the counting of the spruce tree pines.

You'd pray to read more
Looking for the music, laughter, and adoration.
Nothing about these things shall bore
You'd be far too busy looking for the dove.

If my life were a book,
It would be filled with mysteries.
But that's what made you look
To see that mystery and misfortune are more significant than a crown.