Pages Poem by Cleo Blue

The room is dark
And in the corner
Is something marked
With shadows
And scars, and cracks and bruises too
Sound familiar to you?

She takes hesitant steps
Towards the object
Covered in cobwebs
Its black And it looks like its slowly... beating

She sits down
Picks it up
And starts to frown
She blows it off
Tries to read the cover
But the words are to broken to understand
It doesn't matter though
She knows this book like the back of her hand

Its been so long since its been used
Who would want to? its battered and bruised...
And it always leaves her so confused...

She starts to flip the pages
Coming to one of her many life stages
But this one is the one that causes all the pain

She rips out the page
The feeling is like being set free
Out of a cage
She loves it

She keeps ripping
And tearing
It's like sipping
Water after you've had none

There are no pages left
Just scraps kept
On holding to the spine of that book
She need to forget, She wanted all of them gone
But she took a second look
All the little pieces she missed made a sentence
'You still love him, Don't forget'
She curled up and cried
How could she have cried
To herself

She sat back up
Still feeling like a half empty cup
She picked up the pages and started to glue
Even the painful ones too