Tell me my story.
My fears,
The prose of the dreamy,
And my outbursts.
Turn your dusty cover,
And show your pages.
Tell me my story like the others;
The others who tell their writers’ stories.
Crisp pages with a girl’s handwriting.
Brown with age, you still know my story.
You were new, and I was young and wrote things.
I said what people like me told to ones like you: “Dear Diary
…”
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