She was a book, not a girl
but her thoughts whirled.

Round and round like a ferris wheel,
never forgotten, but never real.

Falling and falling from the clouds,
then she crashed, screaming loud.

“Are you okay?” I say to her,
but she says nothing, not a word.

I turn her over, look for her face,
but see nothing but a book in its place.

I turn her pages, one by one,
until all the pages come undone.

She opens her eyes and looks at me,
then says, “I’m finally free.”