Dear 17 Year Old Me


Dear 17 Year Old Me,

Do you remember gazing through the windowpane?
You and I, observing the cars go by as their treads
Leave unmistakable trails?
Watching souls venture to and fro
Caring for households not with money, but time
Commuting actively killing souls
Stacked imprints, upon imprints left in the snow

I remember when we used to dream
Looking for
ward with one finger pointed in front of us
Digitus Medius directed at stagnancy
And despite being thrown into a world of expectations
You and I have made our own history
A legacy that breaks potentials and molds new directions
Not one filled with ephemeral illusions and prefabricated prospects

And now I look back at the choices we’ve made
Wondering if we ended up okay
As I just remember yesterday
Educational agendas being forced not conveyed
Leaving me dismayed, I walked through empty hallways
Sifting through stacks of subpar grades
I sometimes wonder why I stay

But all this was answered the other day
As I tried to find new ways
Chalk on a board becomes glue
I couldn’t let them slip away
A Wanderer above the Sea of Fog
I glance towards a painfully shy boy
seated in the back of the classroom
and to my pleasant surprise
A hand raises in the air
And everything else goes away

17 Year Old Me,
after your read, look through the windowpane
Let your eyes pierce through the glass to see your truth
Lying on your back
Don’t point for
ward towards the skies

Point towards the door- and open it yourself.


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