Wasted paper

I wrote you a story.

Page by page they became chapters.
Detailed with the joy of our experiences,
and the awe of our love.
Those chapters spoke like an epic, as fantastic as any of the Greeks.
Where truth seemed myth and trials overcome turned into legend.

I wrote you a story and I set it on fire when you set me ablaze.


I'm writing a new story now.
Letter by word by sentence.
It speaks like a fairytale made nightmare, like the horror it really was.
Torment and torture bleed from the ink.

I named it after you.

The Harlot of my Dreams.