To Myself

Dear Younger Self,
I didn't tell you enough of anything
I didn't tell you enough that you don't need to hide under a baggy hoodie even when it's 96 degrees outside
I didn't tell you enough that you are worth more than keeping your mouth sealed tight instead of having an opinion
I didn't tell you enough that you are worth more than stashing rusty razors in your favorite novels
I didn't tell you that you are worth more

Dear Younger Self,
You feel like a star right now
Putting out so much energy to stay afloat but burning yourself to oblivion
And just like a star you are beautiful
I guess I never told you that enough either

Dear Younger Self,
I wish I could pull you into myself and let you feel the love you think you don't deserve
I wish I could replace the darkness in your chest with something kinder
I wish I could tell you that in eight years this feeling will go away
But all I can tell you is that the good days will outweigh the bad and that you are not broken
Your mind is not a playground for the Devil
You just need to understand that this body is your home and slowly but surely you are casting out your own demons

Dear Younger Self,
I wish you could see yourself now
I wish you could see how hard you're still trying
God, you are still trying so damn hard
But you're not alone and to be honest you never were

Dear Older Self,
I hope that in eight more years this ode to yourself will be easier to write