21.
21 years.
Every year I've grown, I am not that young you know. But I
am not old.
Sometimes I feel too old for my age, and sometimes too
naive, what am I twelve?
I think I've fallen in love; but never for real.
I think I would have been happy, if I had what I dreamt of-
when I still had dreams.
I think I've fallen in love again; but not forever.
I think I would have been happy, if I wouldn't have thought
so much.
If I was me.

I remember my first kiss; and my second.
My first night; and the next.
I remember last night, how quietly I left.
I remember- how good it felt.
For a second.

I remember being alone.
''Should I call? Should I call?''
But all I want is a hug
To sleep held- in loving arms.
If I was only loved.

21.
When I was 16 I began losing count.
Every year I've changed, but so much remained the same- my
name.
Sometimes people asked my age; and sometimes people guessed-
are you twelve?
Have you ever fallen in love? He asked
I think I might have fallen in love, but I am a realist, and
it wouldn't have worked out.
So you never really fell in love? He asked
I think it would be great falling in love; if I could keep
my sanity. ''yes'' he agreed.
If I could still be me.

I remember my first kiss; and my second.
My first night; and the next.
I remember last night, how quietly I left.
I remember- how good it felt.
For a second.

I remember being alone
''I'll die an old spinster with cats'' [''no you won't, no
you won't'']
But I DO want, I DO want
To sleep held- in loving arms
To be me.
To be loved.

2/3/09