rachael

there's a poem that she wrote

and hid under the mattress

and if you find it please leave it alone

with a picture she took of a girl on the subway

with orange barrettes

and the saddest face she's ever known

as rachael starts to wonder

was it hers to begin with

or was the memory from someone else's sleep

cause there's a hole in her heart

that still harbors a question

whose answer just might break it

so she's hanging on

at least it's hers to keep

so i asked her

what if this does not belong to you