Inside of Me

At my bedside there is a journal that I've had for four years. The pages are filled with items from my highschool career, notes from friends, plane tickets, drawings, and the obituary I cannot bring myself to let go of. Most importantly are the entries I've written. In the pages are everything that has affected me. A detailed account of losing my best friend, then the two years later when we finally made our peace. A timeline of my mother's progressing illness and the ways it has affected me. Several poems about my highschool crush and his belief that pedestrians have the right of way, and one entry about how he nearly killed the two of us. I have written about how I have fallen in and out of love with myself like how the seasons change. I write to keep from all the pain from welling up inside of me.