The cover shines in the light,
the pages soft and smooth,
the indescribable smell of an untouched book,
the pleasure of turning that first page.
Then the cover is scratched,
the pages wrinkled;
it no longer smells of a new book,
but your backpack;
turning that last page is not the same,
but, in a way,
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.