Lately I’ve been writing a lot of poems in transit. N, D, G, R, & 7 trains are usually where it’s at.
It is now autumn, which means I am back to leather-jackets & blazers. This makes me happy.
In two months, I will turn 25. It seems like I should have been 25 three years ago. I’m excited for it, but also somewhat indifferent. Age is a number. Life happens regardless of that number.
I can honestly say I am proud to be where I am right now; I have loved & lost in every minute of those years. I failed. I succeeded. They have been well lived thus far. I refuse to give up on my dreams & goals, some of which are works in progress. I am a work in progress, always.
So far, in my 24th year, I have moved to Brooklyn, started working at my current full-time job, graduated from my MFA program, started writing for Luna Luna Magazine, had poems published, directed a poetry festival, met T, fell in love, & learned that happiness is a choice.
When 25 does hit, I will still be inside you, New York, probably somewhere in Brooklyn raising a glass. I want this year to be full of love, because I have even more of it to give.