we are all bad,in someone's story

This is a tale of fallen leaves/ my heart withers
as i broke each for wishes
cursing the sun for a new day
and the moon for a new way

I found a reason to die
in a page I was once eulogized
and the author was my lover;
my core, my soul and my regret.

man going back into time
in a prose, she wrote blood and ink
how I'll die in my deep sleep/

when love is reduced to flesh
even a blooming rose can smell like death.
and it grieving,
how lovers paint
pictures of pains on pages/

when our arms were meant to brushes
on each other's canvas.

we are all bad,
in someone's story,

when the author
becomes a familiar stanger

©TJXO2022

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