I see you, future self, with your eyes fixed on this moment. My moment. Analyzing the choice I am making to step left instead of right. My left hand points me this way with its pencil. A past voice rings in my ears: this is what we’ve always wanted. We’ve been led astray by logic and security. We’ve been on a jet black road for far too long. I want dirt and gravel. Bumps and grit. I want the entirety of this risk in my hands, gripped.
Just remember, you know where this leads. I don’t. I only have a pencil and a voice. Neither has let up. I can’t read that look in your eyes, but you can read the look in mine. I can’t know whether your tears are for sorrow or gratitude.
But you remember this feeling. You know who I am, the sound of my heart in my ears, because these ears were once yours. This heart was once yours.
This heart is still yours. I can only hope you realize I am doing my best with what I know now, what I hear now. I hope one day, whether you agree with this choice where you are or not, you can appreciate what I have done.
About the Creator
Abby Seber
Author of full-length poetry books: Brewing, All-Nighter, and Entanglements. And popular science book The Universe Untangled: Modern Physics for Everyone. Solo poems in small-press pubs. Painter and mother of 2 cutie patooties under age 3.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.