Anne Frank

When I was a little girl, I would run to my room

And pretend it was a closet

And write in my journal

All the thoughts I held close to my chest

Like Anne Frank

My mother had a journal

She wrote down her every thought

From her love for my dad

To her fear of her father

And she was secretive with her journal

Though on occasion, she would share a note

And from all that I gathered

She has a world that we'd never know

And eventually I grew up and became the same

I created a journal that expressed every last thing

From the person I liked

To arguments with my cousins

To catching a flight

And separating from my brother

I held my soul to my journal

Until it became my keeper

Though the world wants me shallow

My diary whispers "go deeper"