Day 5: April Poem-a-Day

Prompt: Write a discovery poem

This old thing
with 11 pages wrinkled from water
spilled or cried
and a few crispy corners
from starch oversprayed and dissolved onto
exposed paper.
I yanked this old thing
from the bottom of a box
at the back of my closet
and found my deepest secrets
written with all the angst and precocity
I did not recall having and would not regret
were it not for the fact that
this old thing
pulls me out of the closet
on every other page and
I am embarrassed by the newness of the truth
in this old thing.

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