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Historian Of Love

I’m a historian,

Who keeps track of all things lovely,

Happening in all the eras,

Across cities all over the globe.

So, when I flip through albums,

With sepia tinted photographs,

Of faces glowing with love,

I see pieces of us,

Hidden in those round cornered sheets,

Captured for eternity in history,

For historians of love, like me.

 
 
 

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Can I Come Back To You?

Can I come back to you, Wounded from the battles, I fight silently in my head, Scratched all over with scars my thoughts cause, Breathless yet with my heart beating too fast, The same one you broke on

 
 
 

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