Somewhere In Brooklyn

30 - December 5

I know I said I love writing, but I suck at it.

So today, when our English teacher, Mrs. Schmidt, assigned us to write a poem, I panicked. I really am not good at writing. Hell, this whole journal is the actual proof of that. I don't know a lot of fancy words and all I do is ramble about my feelings.

Many of my classmates roared in protest, saying that they don't know how to write a poem or they don't know what to write. I just stayed seated in my seat because you know, I don't speak at school unless I really have to. Mrs. Schmidt calmed them down by saying that it doesn't matter what we write about as long as "we pour our hearts on it." Her words, not mine. As usual, you're the one that I've thought of writing a poem about.

So, I thought and I procrastinated and I wrote. But you see, it didn't feel right writing a poem about you just for grades. For all I know, Mrs. Schmidt might force us to recite it in class. I don't want my classmates to hear anything about you.

So instead, I wrote another poem for you. About myself.

Maybe sometime, I'll include the poem about you in this journal. But not today.