A Letter To Myself:

From 1984

Photo by Irene Strong on Unsplash

I wrote this poem in 1984.

I was sixteen.

My hand-written poem from 1984

I wrote a letter to myself

Promising me of my goals

But if I don’t know who I am

How can I begin to know?

I suppose it all falls into place

(Or, I guess it should)

But my dominoes are so off balance

I’m scared to see what’s next

This is the voice of the voiceless. The heart of the broken. This is teenage depression. This is feeling less-than.

I am fascinated, empathetic and heartbroken for this girl. Her road was paved with land minds of trauma, self-doubt and bullying, but she made it through. To anyone who feels connected with this piece — please know that you can, too.