thinking back
to the so many versions of me
my younger selves
would they be afraid of me now
would they wonder what had happened
what would they think of the scars
on my left arm and shoulder
deep enough that the slices didn’t bleed
right away but slowly filled up and spilled over
and the metal in my face
the dark purple hollows under my eyes
and the sneer on my lips
the bitten skin and the splits that
tear and sting whenever i speak
would they try to stop the shaking of my hands
wrap duct tape around my dull fingertips
so that i will at least be able to salvage some nail
and what would they think
when i told them about the time that
i bruised my knuckles against my
own skull
trying to get the voices to shut up
but all i got was a headache
and fingers that hurt when i unclenched them
would they try to massage a feeling that
wasn’t pain back into my jaw
or would they stay away
because i can be scary
i guess
and my anger and depression
has become a palpable thing
but i don’t mean it to be
i would peel away my walls
of barbed wire and broken promises and hearts
and i would bare it all for them
i really would
because i want to show them
that i am still here
i am still going
i still wake up every morning
and even on days when i have to force myself
to go through the motions
i still do it
for them
for my past selves
and my future selves
but without my past selves
the younger versions of me
with their clothes smelling of ****
and alcohol and so many days of dried blood
i would not have made it
and god i am so sorry i tried to destroy them
but i promise i will keep them safe now
lock them up in a box inside myself
nothing will hurt them anymore
i will be who they needed
way back when
and i will do my best
to keep on going
even though it hurts
more often than not
i will keep going
i promise i will
i will make you proud
you of the skinned knees
and untied shoes
the barefoot romps
through grassy fields
and the first time someone else made your nose bleed
i will be there
i will make you proud
i promise
and maybe when we meet again someday
you will come closer
and you will not be afraid of
what you have become