no one sees what you put your heart into
in a scratched up binder bent out of shape.
their papers flapping in the wind
you don't care when they get away
dear diary, oh sweet diary
the only thing keeping you
through the years
everything was centered around
pessimism and you refused to love
when no one sees
past the bright red bind
with your gel pen cursive
smearing every page
you speak with emptiness
since there's nothing inside
perhaps you are vague
