Tonight I write about my life.
About its curves, and rough edges
the way I cradle it between
my lungs, and everytime I
breathe it feels like
an eternity passes me by.
you don't know
how much I think about my life
diary. how much I pray for it.
Sometimes,
I think that
learned to be a woman
way before I learned to
color within the lines.
..seriously,
turned nineteen
three days ago
but everything inside
of me, feels old.
old, like love letters.
and this world only
seems to be moved,
by modern devices.
