Day 33/366

I can hardly remember why

I wanted to write you a book.

The book of all my thoughts,

To forever keep you amused.

Pages after pages,

I would fill relentlessly,

The words would ease my mind,

For in you they found a reader.

The simplest and most delicate

Feelings to you they told.

It was to be the binding (bound?) string, 

To which we both would hold.

One day when you weren't looking, 

I kept the book away,

I'll start a whole new chapter,

When it seems like a better day.