Notes to my 12 year old selfA Poem by beautifulblade3/15/15
Dear 12 year old me,
everything happens for a reason. Dear reason, you hardly ever make sense, but I guess that's a realization years in the making. Dear years and realizations, it takes so long to get where you're going, but why must time and knowledge be sewn so close together? I have questions I need answered now, not eight years from now. Maybe, if I knew then what I know now, my skin would be unburdened by emotional instability, and my mind would be free of endless nightmares. Dear instability, you sure do love to rock the boat, don't you? Constantly fishing for the one thing that puts life out of balance, when balance is the one thing that keeps everything aligned. Dear aligned, like stars, we all shine in our own way. Our brightness may fade and our sparkle may wane, but the fire inside is a beacon that cannot be undone. Dear undone, you can never truly take me. Sanity is a luxury you can unravel from my core, but there will always be a sliver winding back around itself. Do not underestimate my will to be my own. Dear will, desire is strong. You can be stronger. Dear strength, don't leave me. The battle to survive can't be won on my own, and I haven't yet realized that asking for help isn't a sign of weakness. Comradery is stronger than any urge; bonds forged in battles no one should ever need to fight. Dear battles, somehow, you always seem to sneak up on me, getting the jump I didn't know you had. Your exercise leaves me dizzy, seeing stars on sunsets that aren't really there. Dear sunsets, I want to see you again. I want to see each combination of pink and orange you deem fit to show me. I want to see the masterpiece created in a day and erased in an hour. The skies I paint will forever be my own. © 2015 beautifulblade |
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1 Review Added on December 2, 2015 Last Updated on December 2, 2015 AuthorbeautifulbladeMNAboutMy name is Mariah Lichty. I'm 20 years old and have been writing for around six years. more..Writing
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