The Cougar Review

By Savanna

If you were my book,

you’d be one of the pretty fonts with the curls

At the end of each letter

And hearts on my is

You would have the prettiest cover,

Slivers of gold covering the bookmark I use

The book would be fresh,

The smell of a new book still on the page.

The spine wouldn’t be broken.

Each page would be handled delicately

If you were my book.

If I were your book,

I’m not sure if it would be recognized as one.

The pages torn,

The spine broken.

Instead of a fresh book smell on the pages

The only smell lingering would be

The scent of my heart’s decay.

No longer would the book have a bookmark

Because you don’t deserve to find the page.

There would be no cover.

There would be no book.