I will be 31 soon.
I feel ready to take care of myself,
although I don’t always know how.
But I know I’d like to see
myself smile more.
I used to romanticize
the way the light came in
through the window in the
afternoon,
and relish small quiet moments.
Those moments have felt
like years lately.
I grieve the party girl from the past,
the one who gained a reputation
at the local spots.
One day I closed up the shell.
Decided not to open up anymore,
only give people brief ideas.
But the only one who is trapped
is me.