Short Fiction

At a house on College Street There's a name on a willow tree That you carved when I wasn't there You were always on a mission In the shade reading short fiction When you turned to me and said, "If you wanted to run from me I couldn't stop you now If you wanted to run from me I couldn't stop you" Five years have passed since I last touched down I see no point in starting now But often, I think of turning up unannounced "Hey Ellie, how did your old book turn out?" If you wanted to run from me I couldn't stop you now If you wanted to run from me I couldn't stop you I didn't see it till it passed me by I didn't notice till it wasn't there Just this vague sense that the story didn't turn out right Hit the cover again Can we give it another try? If you wanted to love me I couldn't stop you now If you wanted to love me I couldn't stop you If you wanted to love me (The story didn't turn out right) If you wanted to love me (The story didn't turn out right) If you wanted to love me If you wanted to love me If you wanted to love me (The story didn't turn out right)