Dear Past Self,
Let me tell you a few things you should know;
This is your life now.
I can see that gap between your little eyebrows begin to furrow up.
Well let me untangle it for you now;
It's not the breath catching breeze that I can feel from the top of the cliff,
or the chill that will roll up my spine when I hit the water,
and not even the risk of blood and ambulance sirens.
To fill in your answer blank, yes,
You will laugh in the spur of a bad moment,
And you will look into a crowd and see yourself reflect back.
You will convince yourself you don't want it,
Though we both know 'it' is all you aspire for.
You will logically make bad decisions to find thrill,
Either arrive back with a mess,
or regret nothing.
Long walks will tire you,
But they make short walks boring.
So you generally choose long walks,
And slump in bed when your feet have finished the mile.
You will sing,
And you will act,
And you will find too many things you want to do.
But that's not what I want to you know.
Take away all the color you see right now,
Now erase the lines.
My life right now isn't the image, it's the action.
Present is tucked away in the fact that in this moment,
I see light.
And I can assure you, youngin, that if that fact ever changes,
Stop closing your eyes.
You're not looking the right way.