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chitragupta Jun 4
There it lay forgotten,
in the shelf gathering dust -
A chapter that had once been opened,
and halfway through shut.

Maybe some day,
in the future near or far
Another may wipe the cover
and with love pick it up

They might turn the pages,
might even read to the end
So don't expect your bookmark
to stay on the same page.
Just another idea of masking thoughts behind realities.
I just ordered
My third cup of coffee
After all, I am in good company
Words spilled before me.

Could they have known —
I will always look for
The smell of old books
In this digital world.

Words, my words,
My heart treasures
To put pen to paper.

Time is unkind
For a writer,

Nothing is ephemeral.

You are
A page marked by a folded corner
A love I will come back to
In the future.
Lily Nov 2018
She was a rose, pressed into the pages
Of a book, meant to hold a place.
Instead of a page in a book,
She held a place in his heart,
Which she thought she would always have.
But eventually, bookmarks are lost,
And stories are forgotten,
And all that is left is
The smell of the binding
As the book closes for the last time.
Just scribbles
Josephine Mary Aug 2018
I will always stay in a place where you will keep me, and if ever you will move forward and will start a new chapter.

Always remember that as long as you hold me, I will stay.

As long as you will keep me.
Your heart knows where to find me
Brooke P Aug 2017
I’d like to call you a bookmark

because I want to think I can

remove you from my story at will.

But you’re more like a dog-eared page,

that remains creased 
long after it’s been remembered and unfolded.

When I flip through the pages

I’ll always catch my thumb on you

and try to find the lesson

you may or may not have taught me

about love

or myself.

But I’m pretty sure all you’ve left me with

is a deep, stinging paper cut

that makes me hesitant 
to ever pick up a book again.
Hasan Aspahani Jul 2017
YOU are the book that he wants to keep reading.
I'm just a bookmark, that reminds,
but always end up scattered, forgotten.
alasia Mar 2017
when she says she is empty,
she is not asking to be filled.
stretch her thin and you will see
peeking through her worn body.
stretch her thin and you feel her
burning what you hold.
do not hold her.
when she says she is numb,
she is not asking to feel something.
do not wait out her novocaine
drooling down her chin.
do not wait out her novocaine
she is elated.
do not bring her down.
she is a bookmark holding someone else's place:
do not move her.
someone left her,
she does not know the other side:
that does not mean you show her.
someday she will be fire.
she will dry all that she has soaked with her
ravine heart.
you will follow her black markings to something
she will be followed.
do not be surprised when she does not moan,
she will not moan,
she does not feel.
she is still ice.
when she says she is ice
do not try to melt her.
she will be fire.
Dreams of Sepia Sep 2015
This is a bookmark from your life
a bookmark in mine
a piece of paper
briefly stopping time
bringing our together our stories
or else maybe a thorn
burying itself
within my heart
' Felicity', your name
means joy but can you bring me any
did you even know
he would give it to me
the glitter, single yellow feather
carefree yet placed calculatedly
upon the red background
red as your distant country's flag
I forget how old you must be now
six, I presume
you've not yet started to ask
about his life yet prior to you, your sister
& your mother
& why should you
my moon faced stranger
all fortune cookies & rice,
straddling two worlds
from birth, a similarity
that in any other life
would make me want to call you
' sister' & forgive everything
Your birth, he
did not deserve, not being a loving
man, as you will find out
once you've grown
out of being a toy
& start to rearrange
the furniture of boundaries
if you should ever find out
about us, my mother & me
& what he did
that will be the time to see
if your heart's worth loving
if so, just call me
I'm leaving you my number
in my mind
My English step-father cheated on my mother & ran off with a much younger Chinese woman & they now have two kids, I wrote this thinking of their eldest child, whose childish handmade bookmark ( which my step father gave me when he visited me for the first time after 7 years of me not talking to him) I now keep as a keepsake, wondering about my so-called step sister. I didn't have any siblings as a child & always wanted some so sometimes I think it would be good to forget the past & connect.
celey Jul 2015
flipping the pages of the last book you made me read makes me feel like i've been suffering dyslexia for some time now
so hauntingly familiar
not in any way foreign to me
a photo falls so delicately onto my stained rug
the photo i used as a bookmark
the photo of us i've kept hidden
and forgotten
the photo of you handing a couple dollars
to somebody not in the camera's view
the photo with me beside you
gratefully smiling
as i munch on a waffle
the waffle i spit out right after
the photo that reminds me of the horrid taste of that waffle
it's taste almost as bad as what i feel for you
the Sandman Jan 2015
I want to grow a pair of wings
-Sharp, beautiful, majestic ones-
To hold you in and press you tight
inside them, Like the tender silken
roses you sent, That dozed deep in
the pages Of our favourite book,
So I can keep you
For ever.
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