These pages soaked and wrinkled,
cause them to start tearing.
Spotted pages from these tears,
because you cant start caring.
I don't expect you to,
so continue to rip my heart.
Love never means a thing
until its torn apart.
Our love means EVERYTHING.
I'm not sure how I survived.
Now in every blood stained page
this ink will bury us alive.
Smothered by this story.
Every word takes away my breath.
I promise I won't stop writing,
until there's nothing left.
But just as all these love tales go,
ours will end in death.