She was day-old cookies
warm spiced tea
Sunday morning papers
and bad poetry
she was summer sunsets
pink against the skies
& all the waves were raging
like the oceans in her eyes
she was a melancholy melody
guitar gently weeping
who longed for peace and comfort
in the moments she was sleeping
she was old highways
& sometimes train tracks
sometimes she was the neon signs
before they all went black
she was a forgotten book
very back of the shelf
& she wanted nothing more
than to be only herself
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