The Book of Love (First Draft)

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Open me.

Read my wisdom,

my advice,

my foolishness.

Savor me.

I know much.

I explain little.

I watch you

speak, blunder,

stumble over your silly words

as you introduce yourself

to your crushes.

You ask me

if it’s love





what will manifest?

Few read me,

no one truly

understands me.

You won’t, sadly.

Understand that.

I’ll watch you

grow sick and injured

Forced to accept

your internal torment,


why you can’t be with

the ones you love.

Perhaps, then,

you’ll loathe me,


of the tests

Leave me vulnerable,

my pages flapping

loosely in the wind

as you turn and leave.

Born and raised in CA. Film, literature, music, poetry, mostly gay/queer/GSM topics. Stick around if I haven’t bored you yet.

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