He smelled like a usedbookstore to me
like the smell of pages
that has been passed through generations and generations
holding so much life and matters of contemplation
and picking that book off that shelf
and opening its rough pages
to get a small glimpse of a world
yet to be discovered
beckoning to be doscovered
that i would claim as mines
i know how to take control of my mind
shape it
tame it
become it
and choose it too
because it was mines in my hands
and i was its choice too.
-peanut butter and poetry 🥜🧈📖🕯🕯🖤
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P