I try to take down my day
In a journal.
I used to use a
Purple book,
But that ran out of pages
So now I use my goldfish one.
It has a hard cover
Cerulean blue sea of fabric backing
And a goldfish
Embroidered on the front.
It has a drawing of a
Statue of Caligula
And an illustration of
A Terra Cotta Warrior.
But it has so much more.
If you flip to the end
turn a few pages
you’ll get to the start of
my second journal.
It’s written in black ink
Messy handwriting
And crunched form.
But it’s my own
And I treasure it beyond all others

I am not the type that uses their words
But I’m not the type that swings their fists
Either
I sit there
Simply
Brooding over what I should say
What I should do
But my body’s answer is always the same
Nothing
If I see something bad happen
To me, a friend, or stranger
I let it sit
My anger bubbling like an undiscovered hot spring
I sit there
And do nothing
Even if I should
Do something
I don’t
I just sit there
Thinking my thoughts
Melting into a puddle of nothingness
I am a girl of thoughts
Not words
Not actions
Yay me.