It's a thin, fragile book
you would keep in a desk
the cover is elegant
and the pages, a mess
In black and red ink
stories scribbled and scrawled
and the ones that burn most
are the ones most recalled
Not a scratch on its surface
no smudges or stains
but the paper still aches
a hunger in its veins
This book is a map
and if you look closely
it resembles a heart
so worn, almost ghostly.
So if I am to lose you
let me lose quickly
don't erase it too slow
when I've loved you so dearly.
When Eros shoots the heart of one
The piercing point of Beauty’s son
Borne of love and lust and loss
To pine for one’s a lover’s cost.
Regret has many meanings, and this time I feel it strong
For "love" can be the right word, and yet so very wrong.
I've kept all boats tethered, left none to sail away
If you had a genie in a bottle
and it told you that you could make any 3 wishes
You would not wish for gold
you would not wish for riches
you would not wish for fame.
You would wish for wars to end
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