fingering those pages
I hold onto every last one
'cause I want to see how
it maps the stars in my

mind when I'm dreaming
of memories that opened
my eyes and draw lines
from start to finish

does it end? or does it
infinitely define my

leaving traces of places,
people I used to be, maybe
I can fold myself up and
leave it for you to explore

a/n: loosely inspired by Ned Vizzini's YA novel: It's kind of a funny story