To my past selves:

My pissed off selves, and silent selves;

Those selves that sold their richness for a desperate dose of something that could quell the

questioning

Like a bible or prayer might’ve quelled,

(But you convinced yourselves

Those boring things never meant well.)

 

To those selves that returned home,

Where comfort was on that kitchen counter, with some

 Coffee on the burner,

And a few posts on social media to dip into the drink,

Like pan con café

Back in the day.

 

To those selves that ate up every post of success

And felt a weight build up in excess,

On the heart, mind and the hips

And toiled with this feeling so much,

That you forgot to start that one thing,

That could win it all.

 

To all those selves:

Remember beginnings are whenever you want them to be.

Remember that ends are not,

And won’t ever be.

 

I know sometimes,

The pros are weightless to the con,

But I have learned those weightless things,

You must feed the most.

With laughter, books and repose.

Take what’s good and leave the rest.

Work with what you got, ‘cause that’s enough and best.

 

The answers reside in action,

Maybe?

(You’ll be hearing that forever)

And that is the answer to your questions then.

That is the mantra now.

So, when you rest, knowing you did your best,

I’ll be better off here,

In the future,

With a new blessing springing up,

An answer unfolding,

And a happy memory.