pen & paper

I am thirty years old

I am surrounded by pen and paper 

collected by the 17-year-old that had so much to say,

so much to echo to the world

I am now thirty and silenced by hands

that used to hold my hand because now,

they are choking my neck, 

daring me to say another word

I used to view the world in paragraphs, now

the world is a circulation of disrupted sentences, 

half-finished thoughts and half-eaten lunch conversations

in trains that cannot wait to get to the stop and the next stop and the next stop

So, I am thirty years old

I am surrounded by pen and paper 

that are colorful, eager and ready to be filled with stories

stories that no one will ever ready but me

Sometimes we need to write bad poems 

sometimes we need to write bad stories

maybe 17 year old me had it right

maybe these pen and paper is for thirty year old me afterall