Amour Fictif

I found myself in the bookstore
again on a Friday,
reading about you and I,
feeling the timelines sway.
You had no recollection
of my existence and yet,
we shared a love story that’s
incontestable I bet.

I found myself in the bookstore
looking for the man
who yearned to explore
as much as he can;
I flipped the pages with lust,
addicted to your soul.
Your failures and insecurities
left my heart with a hole.

I found myself in the bookstore.
You were not the protagonist;
You barely had any significance,
You lived a life you so earnestly resist.
Our story was filled with
broken promises,
poems where pain and love met,
and torn and withered pages.

I found myself in the bookstore,
and I found myself beside you,
I can just marvel at you for hours
Gosh, you are beautiful.
I was reminded that you weren’t real,
that I didn’t have to cherish you
but you were so extraordinary,
it was hard to bid adieu.

I found myself in the bookstore
because I missed you.