Imagine if old journals could talk,
The chaos they would provoke.
Old pages revealing to old lovers
All the bottled feelings and unspoken words
You never had the guts to say.
Imagine them telling the darkest secrets
You trusted to those pages
And sharing the spelling mistakes you made
In that poem you wrote and you thought
It was so dumb and no one would read.
I just say,
Don't trust old journals.
The old and wrinkled pages are indeed astute.