You
You are summer days
that I spend alone
in my room.
You are the apple pie
made with wrong apples
and too little crust.
You are the paint
drying under my fingernails
and brushes sitting in dirty water.
You are my favorite book
that was lent
to my best friend.
You are unsavored,
imperfect but perfect,
hard to forget,
gone.
Copyright © Ema Kenyon | Year Posted 2017
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