A Poem to My Younger Self:

Dear past me,

I think of you like you weren’t a part of me.

Just some stranger that I saw across the street,

Some distant friend who I never really got to meet.

I pretend your self-hatred was never mine,

But still, your thoughts bleed into my mind,

Like a shadow, you are always there

Lurking after me,

Waiting to catch me to drag me back down.

I try to run but you can you escape yourself?

Some days I think you’re never really gone.

That you were never really past me,

Not some distant memory,

But playing right before me.

Sometimes all I can do is sit and watch.

Let everything fall apart.

Dear past me,

I think of you like a monster underneath my bed.

Always close, but just out of sight.

Sincerely,

Me