Burnt Notebooks

I wrote for you once,

a whole book or two,

of pretty things and love from me,

and a wishing well of hopes.

I thought about the future for you,

so you needn't worry a little

I planned out every detail

of life as we would live it

I wrote it all in a diary

and marked my favorite page with a feather

It's the page where you take my hand and walk me home

Away from this horrid place

But one day the flames were low

and you were very cold

So there it went,

feathers and all.

You said my dreams were warming you,

but you didn't see inside of me

freeze completely through.

I can't love anyone who burns books.

xoxo the storyteller