She writes as one would talk
Pages and pages and pages
Words flooding from her brain
Right onto the paper
The pencil isn’t sharp enough
To catch up with her mind
Thinking goes without borders
But there’s only so much place to write
Pages too heavy
For the spines of her notebooks to carry
Are decorating the shelves
That color her bedroom
Where she goes to sleep every night
With her head silent
And her heart light
Because her notebooks are her peace of mind

– ARM

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