i heard the most vibrant colors
on the pages of your notebook
so i stole it
watching the music
recording every note of color
every image of harmony
it was all in your entries
of that journal in your room
open the door to the basement
the smell of cold overwhelming
winter in new jersey
feels like summer in alaska
i wouldnt go back though
to those hallways with the blue lockers
and the car with the grey interior
rumbling through the mountain passes
id rather listen to your pages
wondering where they came from
the images
the sounds
the smell of cold air
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