Storytellers

I'm sure once upon a time we had a whole book filled with empty pages.

waiting for us to write our happily ever after

but now we have our own beats,

half finished, half written and we're just faded

пател

at the bottom of a page in each other's works scratched over by fate, torn apart by the choices we chose to make when we should choose each other

we would have slammed the books shut and ran off the edge of our stories to meet at just one word but there's a whole library of reasons why we shouldn't between a

and we hope that at the end of our books, right before it inks the end we could rip off the pages and fold paper planes to find each other agile

but for now, we write our tales, words apart holding the hands of those who we began with and wrote the end to us before we ever had a chance to start

-3am ramblings of wishful thinker