Time is passing

It's been so long since I've written a poem

I'm not confident I can even begin

I've read through all my old ones,

A slew of depression and uncertainty,

Wrapped in a bow of clever words

(Some more clever than others)

And depersonalization

But I am a person

Who was experiencing those things

Heartache and love,

Disappointment and anger

I am still a person,

Still experiencing those things

But all of the sudden I am 23 

Going on 24

And I don't feel like talking about the sadness

Even in its pretty bow

I don't even really feel like talking about the happiness,

Or all the feelings in between

And although that leaves me with precious little to say,

I think that it's okay

It's important to feel your feelings

Even when those feelings don't have words

Even if those words don't make cool, simple, moving messages

Even if those messages are for you alone,

To figure out slowly

Not all at once

And even if this poem didn't make any sense

Or doesn't, five years from now

That's okay too. 

Because the only one who's reading it back

is you