This is the last poem I'll ever write as a 19 year old I don't know if I should summarize the years I have spent Or talk about the future and what lies ahead. It's not easy to write anymore. Words, they just keep slipping like the string of a helium balloon that I always jumped to hold, as a kid but it would always fly away just after touching the tips of my fingers making me realize that I was almost there. Almost. Almost but never really there. And I'd look at the balloon flying away slowly turning into a dot before forever being a part of the sky And I'd wonder. I'd always wonder if I could just let go of my strings one day and fly away.... Would I be able to escape this place? Would I be able to reunite with the balloon someday? But little did I know that letting go wasn't so easy. It was much more than opening your fingers and letting it fly away with the wind. The strings which held me down were wrapped around my finger tightly you know, like we used to tie a rubber band around our fingers just to stop the blood from flowing in our veins and making our skin red. It was just like that. And letting the strings go meant letting them cut through my skin and leave marks as a reminder that I once held onto something or someone too strongly between my fingers (and in my heart).
So I sit here now as I remember it all in my head trying to decide what to share with my pen. Not sure if this time would matter or not as I whisper under my breath, "Almost there, almost"