except

i have these books that i judged by the cover
because the pages were blank so i felt it was justified
and i hoped i would fill the insides with beautiful
because i would like to think life is that way
however, some of my best inspiration is ugly
but that's not the point
the point was that you wanted to see what was inside
because i was telling you about myself
how i like to write and all these sorts of things
and when you saw a book that was still blank to you
but not blank inside, you wanted to see
"well.." i start to say but i don't mean to end well
"maybe some other time"
because we both know poetry can't be forced.
later when we swirl around my apartment stairs
i tell you things like "i wear my heart on my sleeve"
because i think you should know.
"my feelings are hard to conceal"
and in conclusion,"i'm an open book"
but you look at me and say, "except for your book."