A Poem For 2021

Every year, I write an end-of-the-year poem. I hope 2021 was good to you. At the very least, I hope it wasn’t all bad. And I hope you have grown and laughed and loved and cried and been as ferociously you as is humanly possible. Happy New Year, everyone.

2021

this year has made me feel

as if I’ve aged a decade

the older I grow the deeper I empathize

now I know why

they say oak trees grow stronger with time

we flipped the page to 2022 without blinking

I think I know more than I did last year

but I still hold fear close to my heart

I wonder how noticeable my scars are

how well I have hidden my fissures

this year felt like being alone in a room full of people

who can’t understand you and won’t

but no one needs constant sympathy

we are ballerinas in our own music boxes

trying to dance the madness away

smiling blandly

spinning sadly

laughing to dull our aches

2021 was a year I swallowed news by the fistful