Notes to younger self

Georgie,

You’ve been talking a lot with your fists lately

12 years old -approach this world peacefully

readily and steadily you warrant,

and deserve your mothers soft touch

The touch of an angel or the touch of a

Deer in the headlights as your words become the

Screeeeeeech and crash of the car

This is a phase

Regret none of it, not one

of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,

when the lights from the carnival rides

were the only stars you believed in, loving them

for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.

Georgie,

You are 14

Speak with the flowers and powers you were born with

The connection, the love, the deep rooted tie

The pride for her daughter who understands

Understands that sometimes mums and dads

Cannot remain together

That the twinkling fairy lights that tie us

Transmute, mutate, or better- renovate into rope

That burns and brawls

But that’s ok

16 and soon you will understand

The anatomy of a family

The fluttering fleeting wings often quit

Do not chase, or race for anything

Stay resilient ashore

For now, you are 19

The world shimmers in front of your eyeballs

You no longer worry about the rooms with

Desk grids stood heroic and fearless like soldiers

You are brave with that voice, that smile

That tries to make everyone else’s world brighter

For now

I shall tell you

You are doing it right

If scraps of your life fall at your feet

Do not pick them up

Roots of reasoning for everything

It’s ok to feel any emotion at all

Do not regret the nights you called god names and cursed

Those who love you the most,

sunk like a dog in the living room couch,

chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.

You were meant to inhale those smoky nights

Those are over now.

over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck McDonalds chips.

Your Mother asked too many questions

Had too much wisdom and maturity for everyone else

Your Dad’s voice spoke loudly but said nothing

And ran too fast to be able to keep up

He was always running.

Why do you try so hard to be perfect?

You need to go out more.

Drink a little

Throw caution to the wind…

at least more than you do.

You love a lot and can’t choose.

That’s ok.

You say ‘yes’ to a lot of things.

Don’t.

It’s ok if people don’t understand your mind.

It’s not there to be understood by anyone anyway

Don’t build the big dream house.

It’s too much work,

Sapping your creativity.

Find some place small and quaint,

tucked away in the woods.

Make life as simple as possible.

Pare it all down to the basics.

You’ve traveled this far on the back of every mistake and every achievement,

ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house

Emptied of expectation.

Relax. Don’t bother remembering anything for now.

Let’s stop here,

under the lit sign on the corner,

and watch all the people walk by.dscf1739image040001my-holiday-069dsc_0270img_8667dscf6294

All other poetry Just some poetry

Georgie Bolam View All →

Student Journalist, Creative Writer, Poet, Traveller, Eco Warrior

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