you’re the ghost
of the younger you
as you float
down the stairway

catch your eye
you crack a smile
we sit and pine
for a while

down the drain
pour the coffee that
we didn’t drink
too cold

hear the girl
in the stereo
singing tunes
from long ago

don’t lie to me my friend
are we really at the end?
should’ve dressed for the event
but i know we’ll meet again

i’ll wear something black and red
you’ll apply my favorite scent
and if still we both forget
then i’ve loved you ’til the end

i’m the wraith
of the younger me
as i joke
to see you laughing

hear the boy
on the radio
as your gaze
meets the door

don’t lie to me my friend
are the waves upon the sand?
they may rip you from my hand
but i know we’ll meet again

and i’ll wear my darkest cape
you’ll put on your finest lace
and if still we should forget
then i’ve loved you ’til the end

When you were younger,
maybe you were told to hold your tongue,
hold your breath until you got older.
But now that you're here,
now that you've figured out how
and when to say what you want to say, someone has given you the same advice.
So once again, you hold your breath,
even though it hurts and scares you.
And now, you wonder "what's next?"
Now, I'm going to be the one giving advice:
if you want to be confident, independent,
and able to stand up for yourself,
understand that you're the only one
who can give you permission to breathe,
and you've earned it.

She always wanted to be her older self
Taller, smarter, stronger, prettier
Looking in the mirror she strove
to be that person, everybody loved
a head turner.

Today she looked again.
Reflecting off were bigger goals -
Striving to be even older, even smarter
More compelling, both chaos and order
Achieving every dream, her fire burnt brighter

Little did she know, the girl in the mirror
was what she wished for, years earlier
While wanting to be better, aiming higher
she forgot to see that she really was
the perfect person she once desired.

i don't know why im writing this. but i used to write every so often when i was younger.
i am turning 18.
it almost feels like a fever dream. i never felt this frightened my whole life.
is my life really starting? is this the beginning of a decade?
where am i gonna be after this? how am i gonna feel?

you see, growing up, it's that just simple.
nothing changes, and you still gotta wait for something to.
it doesn't magically happens.

and i hate waiting.
i wanna be older and free.
but, most of the time i wish life was simpler like when i was younger.

Sitting on my porch with a messy bun atop my head, wearing shorts and an oversized t-shirt, spiral bound notebook in hand, and my knees up to my chest.

Reflecting on the years past, the bridges that I've built and the ones I've burned. It's interesting how seasons play such a big part of our lives. The weather is just one of those. It's cold outside, we change our clothes to warmer ones, light fires in the fireplace, drink warm drinks. It's hot outside, we change our clothes to cooler ones, swim in cool water, drink ice cold drinks. We are constantly trying to be exactly the opposite of our surroundings. Why?

Besides the general scientific fact of hypothermia and heat exhaustion, we not only change who we are in season of weather but in seasons of life. When we are in high school, all we do is long to grow up. When we are grown, we miss those carefree nights catching fireflies in our backyard. When we need friends so bad that we would do anything, even reject who we are, to be important to someone. When we recognize our importance and that quality over quantity is key.

Life holds so many twists and turns. One can look back on the last 5 years of your life and see just how much you've changed, how those around you have changed and the changes that will come in the path ahead.

It's okay to not be the same, feel the same, or want the same things as you did 5 years ago. You didn't disappoint your younger self, you just grew. You grew into someone new that has been seasoned by life experience. At 17, maybe all you wanted was to go to college, get drunk, have tons of friends, and be free. At 32, all you need is a quiet home with space just for you and your art. You yourself are a season and it's perfectly okay to change.



-t.s.

I wrote a poem almost a year ago about wishing to be the girl who could just be happy without trying
And I want to tell year ago me that I’m almost there
There are still times when I overthink everything and I’m sure that there always will be
But, when you have someone with you who constantly tells you that you are perfect and beautiful and worth it, well their words start to sink in
I in no way believe I’m perfect
But I do know I’m happier and sometimes that’s all that matters

wishing I was older
while trying to slow down time


©L.F.