Your mind was a book,
Made of chances you wish you took.
You were restricted, you were a lost,
The letters you consolidated had a cost.

Pages and pages of words,
The ones that you preferred.
Topped with a pretty, confident cover,
Packaged in an envelope sealed and saved for later.

She came along and peeled it off,
Exposing every one of your thoughts.
You spilled the tea then and there,
For everything you had to say she wanted to hear.

Now your conscience is clean and clear.
You've erased all your fears
No regrets, no defects,
No sad faces, just empty pages.