Dear Future Me

A letter that turned into a poem

I wonder just how different we are

If I’m still on the ground, have you settled in the stars

And if my voice had gone softer, did you speak louder

Have you savored each hour

Or watched the time fly by

Have you opened your eyes

By seeing more of the world

Are you still the same girl?

And I hope you remember my heart

I hope this year was only the start

Have you gotten wiser

With each sunrise or

Did you slip back under the covers

So the cold wouldn’t drag you under

I trust you won’t forget

All the happy and hard moments

And the time I spent learning

Are you still yearning

For more? And do books line your shelves

Ones that you’ve written, or by someone else

Are you happy, was it worth it

Do you close your eyes and transform into a poet

And are you braver, are you kinder

Are you still a dreamer, a thinker, a writer

Is there a deeper light

That you have seen shine?

I hope that I have left a little trace

And I hope you’ve found a place

In this world, wherever it may be

And that you love yourself, and everything you see

That you have come far, but you still remember me

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Inspiration:

A few days ago, I was asked by a loved one—one of those people so close you call them family—to write a letter to my past self, and one to my future self. The letter to my past self is in the form of a letter, but when I began writing this one, the words wouldn’t come out right. That’s when I knew that it needed to be a poem.

Explanation:

I think this poem is enough just as it is, without a detailed explanation. A main theme I had in mind as I was writing this was: I really hope the future me hasn’t forgotten. I hope she won’t forget, and I also hope she’ll grow in the ways I’ve always wanted to, and so many more ways, too. But even though she’ll grow, I want her to be the same person in her heart.

Two parts I will explain:

And if my voice had gone softer, did you speak louder: When I was younger, I was really loud. I was confident and opinionated “right from day one”, as my mom would day. But I’ve gotten quieter with my opinions and thoughts. So I hope my future self speaks louder again.

Did you slip back under the covers

So the cold wouldn’t drag you under: One thing I am so strongly sure that I don’t want to happen is that I will just pretend like nothing ever happened—like I never spent a year in Paris which changed my life. I will not “slip back under the covers”. What do I mean by that? Picture this: you’re up in the middle of the night, and get up to get a drink of water, or go to the bathroom. And then, you slip back under the covers. You’re safe and warm again. It was like you never got up.

Thanks for reading! If you like this, check out more of my poetry posts!