She held his book so tightly in her hand
As she entered into the world within
The world bringing memories of her past
Memories that she would rather forget
She held his book so tightly in her hand
Her eyes transfixed by the yellow pages
Yellowed with age, a portion of her past
A past to remember and to forget
She held his book so tightly in her hand
Lost, thinking of whatever ways she knew
Ways to lose the memories of her past
As she tried desperately to forget
She held his book so tightly in her hand
Her hand that was now so cold, pale, rigid
Becoming like a statue of her past
Cold, hard, stonelike, in order to forget