Beautiful Disaster

On Christmas, I was handed a package
by my mother.
My fingers tore the wrapping paper
and then it was revealed.
An ugly shade of purple
and leather. Does she not
realize
I've been a vegetarian for three years?
Leather? I could almost hear the ugly
purple cow
mooing in protest.
On the cover
it said,
"We do not
remember days, we remember
Moments."
and I wondered, who is "we"?
But I smiled and thanked my parents
on the verge of tears.
All I'd wanted
was that beautiful cat
from the humane society.
But soon, I began to fill the unwanted journal.
First with words, with stories, with my days.
Then with oil pastels, colored pencils, and markers.
I began to glue in pressed flowers
I found
on my springtime walks.
I stuck pictures of art
from magazines
on the inside cover
and in all the free space.
An orange 'H' sticker decorates the front.
The embossed words have been filled in
with silver Sharpie.
And now, I record my days in receipts
pricetags
napkins
tickets.
It's chaotic
and full of life.
Full of my life.