deepundergroundpoetry.com
Conversations With a Former Self
over these past few months
my old shyness has surfaced again
in moments of anxiety and withdrawal
my shadows are my only friends
that little hole to which you retreat
is a cocoon or a coffin, maybe both—
transformation awaiting it's time to emerge with wings
or a thousand deaths of things you do not want to be.
this, my dear, is a part of you
those voices will follow you for years to come
oh! the diplomacy, the weeping, the madness, the joy!
such things ahead
the conversations all begin and end
with you
in the light of my former wildness
I cringe and squint at the spotlight
shying away from human touch
yet craving it every single night
far greater transgressions await
in the shadows you don't hear
childish woes will await your darkest hour
when even in the
prime of your wildest escapades
you'll find you still
feel scared and alone
your family is broken
and this is why you cry
you ache for a safe place in warm arms that you never got
hold on to yourself baby girl
you may wander
but you are not lost
going from scandalous nights partying
to lying in my bed with a stuffed unicorn
feeling like a little child again
but far from the innocence with which I was born
a foreboding statement
even from eyes that never saw
the ugly truth of realities
beyond the safety of your childhood home
I know it feels like a prison now
and you dream of escape one day
but mark my words
you'll move too fast
and the cold walls of that same hell
will find you
when you've run out of places to run
and the wreckage of all you've done
sits in your own personal file
of guilt and self pity
waiting to burn to ashes
to be the next tragic story of the town
to be paper airplanes wished upon
to be
to be
to be
Well?
exactly
my old shyness has surfaced again
in moments of anxiety and withdrawal
my shadows are my only friends
that little hole to which you retreat
is a cocoon or a coffin, maybe both—
transformation awaiting it's time to emerge with wings
or a thousand deaths of things you do not want to be.
this, my dear, is a part of you
those voices will follow you for years to come
oh! the diplomacy, the weeping, the madness, the joy!
such things ahead
the conversations all begin and end
with you
in the light of my former wildness
I cringe and squint at the spotlight
shying away from human touch
yet craving it every single night
far greater transgressions await
in the shadows you don't hear
childish woes will await your darkest hour
when even in the
prime of your wildest escapades
you'll find you still
feel scared and alone
your family is broken
and this is why you cry
you ache for a safe place in warm arms that you never got
hold on to yourself baby girl
you may wander
but you are not lost
going from scandalous nights partying
to lying in my bed with a stuffed unicorn
feeling like a little child again
but far from the innocence with which I was born
a foreboding statement
even from eyes that never saw
the ugly truth of realities
beyond the safety of your childhood home
I know it feels like a prison now
and you dream of escape one day
but mark my words
you'll move too fast
and the cold walls of that same hell
will find you
when you've run out of places to run
and the wreckage of all you've done
sits in your own personal file
of guilt and self pity
waiting to burn to ashes
to be the next tragic story of the town
to be paper airplanes wished upon
to be
to be
to be
Well?
exactly
Published 20th May 2021
Author's Note
Pulled this from my drafts... An unnamed piece from December 2015. This was in the final months of the year I was celibate. I emerged from my depression into a manic but self loving state, but my childish ignorance led me to chase love in a shallow bond too soon, not seeing how deep the following wounds would cut me. This is my reconciliation with that self that has followed me silently awaiting the moments to emerge. She appeared several times, but this time I know her name and her story. She is me. She will overcome.
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20th May 2021 11:52pm
