I found my old journals

I rummage through my closet
and pull out my box of old journals
I take out 3 journals
filled with memories I’ve forgotten
and pain I’ve suppressed
I sit at my desk
taking a sip of my hot coffee
before I begin my trip
down memory lane
I leaf through the thoughts
and feelings of another person
as it’s been so long
since I wrote these words
I feel disconnected
oddly aloof from my old self
“it wasn’t supposed to be like this”
is the thought that runs
through my mind
as I read words my past self wrote
3 years ago, 2 years ago, a year ago
all my journal entries narrate
the pain I’ve endured
the grief I still hold in my heart
there is no sign of victory
in those pages, no telling
if any of it was worth it
no light at the end of the tunnel

I realize how much help I needed
that I never received
I hid my pain from
the rest of the world, thinking
if no one could see it
maybe it would go away
I see that pushing it down inside myself
just made it more lodged in my heart
now I’m more lost than ever
I’ve never healed
no one ever taught me how to
and I still don’t know
what it feels like to not be broken
I look up from the messy handwriting
knowing my words
will haunt me at night
I regret opening up these journals
I regret remembering
with tears still in my eyes
I pick up my coffee cup
but it has now gone cold

and isn’t worth drinking anymore.