When a heart flutters,
It turns into paper.
Where you can write proses,
Poetries and stories.
Words into verses,
Turning into a whole Chapter.
When a heart flutters,
It turns into paper.
It becomes fragile and vulnerable,
Tangible and sensible.
Torn and crumpled,
Pieces strewn everywhere.
When a heart flutters,
It turns into paper.
Bound to be a book unwritten,
Left on the shelf and forgotten.
But there lies the name breathing,
In the footnotes of the writer.