Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
somewhen in the vast crumbling timeline of the universe 13-year-old me is wondering whether i exist. 4 years is a long time, after all, maybe enough to choose the exit, leave the stage, throw away everything she is currently trying to hold together. but here i am, after all, so she must have made it; trekked through the perilous path of the future, which is just another word for the unknown which is just another word for nothing, for empty, and made it here. and here is not a field of green, exactly, but maybe an oasis in the desert. i am proud of her, even if it is not halfway done, even if the road stretches dark and endless, even if she has brought with her nothing but fistfuls of doubt all her stupid starving for reassurance— *will i be here in 3 years? in 5 years? in 10?*— like a haunting hold, a ghost. but we have still made it, after all. for me, and my 13-year-old spectre, the question is not how do you see yourself in the future or where do you think you will be by then or even what do you want to be doing in ten but merely will i see myself. will i see myself. will i get there.
0
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
time capsule
somewhen in the vast crumbling timeline of the universe 13-year-old me is wondering whether i exist. 4 years is a long time, after all, maybe enough to choose the exit, leave the stage, throw away everything she is currently trying to hold together. but here i am, after all, so she must have made it; trekked through the perilous path of the future, which is just another word for the unknown which is just another word for nothing, for empty, and made it here. and here is not a field of green, exactly, but maybe an oasis in the desert. i am proud of her, even if it is not halfway done, even if the road stretches dark and endless, even if she has brought with her nothing but fistfuls of doubt all her stupid starving for reassurance— *will i be here in 3 years? in 5 years? in 10?*— like a haunting hold, a ghost. but we have still made it, after all. for me, and my 13-year-old spectre, the question is not how do you see yourself in the future or where do you think you will be by then or even what do you want to be doing in ten but merely will i see myself. will i see myself. will i get there.
it's fine, asking just means you still have hope for a positive answer
julesink
Written by
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem