found my diary...

Just imagine you found my poetry diary disguised as a small notebook in the corner of my bookshelf Chuckling at " It's secret don't open it" line on the front page, you turned the page One by one Line by line you read the poem. Word by word the emotions dripped on your face like blush. All red you were. All the self doubt and insecure left your soul and left with a picture of me and you imagining how to recreate some poetic scene I wrote. Of course you realized since the first line of first poem you've been my muse But the fact that I love you must have devoured your soul.