dear girl,

you don’t know it now,
you won’t believe it now,
but here’s the truth.

one day not long from today,
you will be loved by someone
who accepts you even on your
most unapproachable days.
and believe me, you will have plenty.

you might do everything
in your power to combat this
kind of unexpected life you’ll live.
you believe you do not deserve him,
but you’ll give up fighting.
like i said, he’ll love you on even
your most unapproachable days.
unconditional and deservingly.

sincerely,
an older you who’s still learning

You are walking through what seems to be a narrow hallway. Bodies stick to the walls, complacent with the space given, bumping shoulders, shaking hands, saying hi, saying goodbye.

You hold your school bag closer to your chest. There is a laptop in there-- pens and notebooks. Things you need. Things you cherish. And as time will not stretch, you make your way to class, do not worry, -- it will quickly pass.

The ceiling lights in the classroom are dull, dying, uninteresting. Bodies file in, breathing heavy, sighing heavy. As the florescence seems to keep you further away, it is dimming you as well, repressing, submitting-- only you cannot tell.

He speaks redundantly. Hands raise high-
do they even know what they are going to say?- you wonder this at every selection. He points to she and he and they. They who are chosen, loud and bold. He says "YES!- You are right ma'am. Let us begin to unfold."

Naked internally.
Doing a soul walk.
Finding trash.
Should have thrown most of it out.
Each day a new perspective.
Pain of yesterday carried on.
Burnt out bulbs in the lamp
suggest ambitions not followed.
Strange shadows that
shift around the corners of
my vision as I look out into
the uncertain dream of a future.
Decisions that I made
may not have been in my
best direction.
Storm of rising frustration.
It defines my state of art.
Places I will need to
confront in order to surpass
the failure of mental reservation.
People I will need to
reconcile with in order
to move ahead in new direction.
I hate to cry.
Something a man is taught to never do.
I turn my face inwards.
Pretending raindrops are
on my face.

When you look at me, what do you see?
I see a transparent body, outlined by bold black
ink, a distant reflection of me

You see nothing, yet you see me?
I see nothing but those behind you and those walking through
your outline, yet I see who you should be

If I were to disappear, what would you do?
I do not know considering, you are not there.
You are like air

If I am like air, can you feel me brush against your skin?
You are not as strong as the wind; you are like the air I breathe in

Why are you the only one who hears me?
I hear you because I am the mirror of your outline, I respond by showing you the truth of what you only choose to see

How do I fill myself in? Become visible and whole?
You find your true colors and escape into your soul

*A.L.W.