if i was a book

if i am a book, you were the most careless reader
you scribbled your name inside my front cover in black ink pen that will never full fade away
you skimmed over the paragraphs and misunderstood the meaning of every word
you annotated and corrected the parts you did not like
writing in the margins and crowding my pages with your own unworthy opinions
you marked over my most beautiful quotes for fear that you might learn to enjoy my company
you read your own name an innumerable amount of times, repeated again and again like the steady tick of the clocks that mark the time passing without you
and i do not mind that you don’t pick me up off the shelf anymore to gaze at my cracked spine and tear stained pages
i do not mind that your eyes will never read my words again
my new chapter has begun and i am tearing out the pages with you in them
and although i will always remember the missing moments and the gap in the numbers at the bottom of the page
this new story is my own
not one designed but never destined to be read and loved by you