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She had stars behind each eyelid, and a galaxy in her soul, that drew people to her endless heart, like the pull of a black hole, she was made of earth and fire, of whises cast on shooting stars, she was a brand new solar system, unlike the ones they'd known so far, with constellations ever changing, no one could memorise her skies, and they thought the thing for them to do, was bring her to their size, they shrunk the universe within her, told her vast expanse was wrong, that she should make her life much smaller, if she wanted to belong, as they collapsed her world around her, she felt her inner stars grow cold, until her life was far too heavy, for her once strong arms tso hold, you might wonder how it happened, but i guess that it make sense, because a life becomes much heavier, when it's the universe condensed.
She also smelled like a books and stories, of all the worlds she'd lived within, as though the ink had left the pages, to find a new home in her skin, she didn't quite belong here, lived a life within her head, like she'd slipped out from the covers, of a paperback instead, and you'd see it in her eyes, that they were deeper than a well, she was a whole library of stories, that we'd beg of her to tell, when she spoke the world would listen, to the advantures of her mind, for if there's such a thing as magic, then it was something she could find, and her heart had looked much further, than her eyes had ever seen, she'd walked on words to places, her two feet had never been, its years now since she moved, and we all failed to keep in touch, so here memory's all faded, like a book you've read too much, but if she hoped to leave us ink-stained, she should know she did succeed, for even now we all still look for her, in every look we read.
⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊ - ❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ