Yours Truly

Each year in school I’d have to write

a letter to my future self.

Now years later I write you back

to give advice as well.

I could spill your fate out on this page

give you the pen to make great change,

but the thrill of surprise

is great as circuses or parades.

There’s a chance you’d shake your head at me

if I told you all I’ve done.

But I really bet you’d smile 

when reading what’s to come.

At times you’ll hike through mountains

with sandbags in your heart.

And blood will stain your knees

from falling in the dark.

But at night you’ll see

just how you’ve healed,

when your scar-scattered sky

lights up with constellations.

And you’ll find that worth isn’t construed

by a twenty-four carat soul,

but rather how your mistakes form art

when hung up on the wall.

Your colors don’t quite go together.

You’re tie-dyed in the face.

But I like how that keeps you different,

so please don’t ever change.

Youth will try and float away

like a wild red balloon,

but string it tight around your wrist

and it won’t leave quite as soon.

And when it comes to growing up,

take the stairs.

September 2016