Here are some words from me to my past:
“I hope that your joy can & will last,
that your friendships will continue on too,
And, above all, I’m still proud of you.”

“What did they say when they saw your face?
I don’t quite remember the warmth of her embrace.
Or was she cold, like I am now,
and like when she was hung from the chopped down bough?”

“Do you remember the manic look in her eyes?
When she spun, enraged, lips blue as the skies?
How her veins had popped, worn and bruised,
how you only stood still, shocked and bemused?”

“Who were you back then, for I am you now.
There’s not much to reap, only what you sow.
Keep treating your burn and learn to yearn,
accept their concern and return unworn.
Haunt her ghost and remain bellicose;
the only defense is to learn how to boast.”

Here are some words from my past to myself:
“I’m trying my best, and I’m tryna excel.
I hope you miss me. I miss you too
cremation left me alone and askew.
That’s all I can say.
Let’s call it a day.
The world is gray, we’ve learned as much,
so don’t look for black, white, and the such.”

The moon shines bright through the stained glass window.
I roll over and weep into my cool, cotton pillow.
An ocean begins to form beneath my eyes
And around me rise large spikes of ice.

I miss you, your gaze,
how naive and unhurt you were.
You dodged his raze
and you still have her.
Remedy your hurt
and continue to smile,
remember to stay alert—
I’ll be gone for a while.