I've Seen This Before.

A poem based on V. Walker's prompt for day ten of National Poetry Month.

Photo by Randy Jacob on Unsplash

I’ve written about you before. Too many times, in fact. Each a representation of my disdain for growing up. Never giving myself peace for growing away from you. You’re alive in my head, and I never let that down.

And you were named differently. I never forget that either. It was a beautiful name, suiting perhaps who you were back then. But now I’m here— an evolution of your hopes and dreams becoming realized. Just in ways you never quite expected.

So, I’m done putting distaste on you for things you couldn’t control. Time is unkind to everyone after all. But I do still wish you’d dissipate from my mind completely. I’m tired of seeing you here in this mirage which is my memory.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

I’ve Seen This Before.

I’ve seen this before–
This reflection in the mirage
Standing before me.

They look like me,
Brown hair and glasses–
Yet smooth skin and
Wearing a green hoodie.

Childlike grin,
And a sprint forward
Like tomorrow was
Already on its deathbed.

I’ve seen this before–
This reflection in the mirage
Distorting before me.

They looked like me,
Or so I once thought.
But replacing the child
I used to be is a ghost
Of my former happiness.

A deepened scowl,
Bags under tired eyes
And a patience long
Worn thin by an
Ever so cruel world.

And weighted by a sadness
I only dare discuss inside
The lines of my own stanzas.

I’ve seen all this before–
A nightmare played on
An endless cycle.

I’ve seen all this before–
A memory I would love
To wipe from my head.

I’m tired of reflecting
On the past.

Photo by Adriel Kloppenburg on Unsplash

You’re still here? I guess it was foolish to try and push you away. To urge you to go on a sabbatical deep in the corner of my brain’s void. But what did I expect from a version of me like you?

There was so much you went through and yet, you were still so happy and carefree. A champion of my younger years, so why do I still dislike you? Is it because of who you are, or what it meant for the people in my life at that time?

I guess I’ll never truly know. But maybe deep down I wish I was you again— a child with no compass. Oblivious to how the world functions, and living without need to feel seen.

Maybe. I envy to be back into a past I can no longer return to. But I guess for now, I have no choice but to settle for this mirage instead.

I love who you were back then, and I promise I’m learning to love myself the same way. Even if it’s taking a little longer than I’d like. Even if I’m unsure if I’ll ever love myself fully again. But, I promise I’m trying.

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If you enjoyed reading through this piece, let me know by sharing your thoughts in the comments below. And thank you once again

V. Walker | Poet

for hosting this huge prompt challenge. I might not follow through to do every single one, but I appreciate how much you’re doing for everyone.

Now, here’s some other posts I think you all may enjoy. I’m pulling these fresh from my Substack newsfeed, so they’re ripe for your readership:

April 7th: My Top Five

You Built Me a Home with Your Words