april's promises

i don't know if a broken heart

can ever really get fixed again

but this poet will try

i once heard you say that you were in love

with the smell of old books

so that's where i began

writing every exhale, every fear

and every wish you once granted

so we would live forever

on shelves by your bedside

and in between the one moment

that you never decide to just come back

~ap~