It's not pubished yet,
It's still being written.
It'll be published anonymous,
By me.
And it's about you.
And me.
Yup. I know.
It's really messed up.
I've written an entire book about you.
And all the ******* things I feel.
The worst part is,
That you don't even know.
No one knows it's about you,
Or that I'm writing it,
And that maybe It'll be published someday.
But until then,
I'll keep writing my book.
And let the poetry fill the once blank pages,
With you, and all my in-love words.