Autobiography of a book with dog-ears and a broken spine
Do you even know how it feels to have a part of you folded and kept aside, left at your pity and waiting to be unfolded again? That pain my pages get every time you dog-ear them. Do you know how it feels? No you don't because that never happens to you. I feel so miserable to see those creases you make on my pages.
Can't you just use the Bookmark? Is it so difficult to use one? Only the Bookmark knows what I go through, what really happens between the pages. There's an unspoken romance between us that you devoid from us every time you dog-ear my pages. While you seek comfort from me, the Bookmark seeks only companionship from me.
And then there's the broken spine. I know it's difficult to surf through my pages when I get a little fat but that doesn't mean you have the power to break my spine. If only you hadn't broken my spine, the pages could have gracefully danced every time you flipped it's pages together.
I didn't forget about another thing that you do to me. Folding my covers so that you can grasp me with one hand? Are you insane? My covers are equally important to me. They are the sacred clothes that adorn my body and the element that catches your attention.
If only you could be a little more careful. If only.