It all fades to black...

He has a wild imagination for a heart, and ink runs through his veins, he'll write you into his story with the typewriter in his brain. His bookshelf is getting crowded with all the stories that he's penned, of all the people who flicked through his pages but closed the book before its end. And there's one pushed to the very back, that sits collecting dust, with its title in his finest writing, 'The One's Who Lost My Trust'. There’s books he's scared to open, and books he doesn't close. Stories of every person he's met stretched out in endless rows. Some people have only one sentence while others once held a main part, thousands of inky footprints that they've left across his heart. You might wonder why he does this, why write of people he once knew? But he hopes that he meant enough to someone of those to write about him too.