I stare at blank pages and wonder
is this really what my life has come to
after 24 years of being here.

Surely I have something to say.
Surely after all this time and all these words
I’ve learned how to turn my emotions into ink stains.

But no
24 years later
and I still stare at blank pages.

I’ve gone from a girl with a full life
and countless opportunities ahead
to a girl always aware of the time

life slowly slipping away
the ticking of the clock
life unlived.

| c.l.s | 2014

I think I have spurts where I don’t write because writing is the key to the door of my emotions, emotions I cannot control. When I’m at a low, there’s nowhere left to go and so I leave that door open. But when I’m happy, I’m scared to crack the door, for fear that a burst of wind may destroy the place I’ve worked so hard to upkeep.

| c.l.s | 2014