You have no idea,
absolutely no idea.
Sixteen, all imagination and deceit;
you can play anyone
It won’t go well; there will be times
you’ll wish yourself dead, somewhere else, anywhere
but the place you’re in.
Wanting to belong you’ll plant yourself
in foreign soil, sending your roots down deep
only to tear yourself up, bleeding, time after time, moving
your tent like a nomad across the world.
(Remember to read the instructions, the small print,
never hope for the best. )
Refuse to be seduced by roses, fast cars,
their owners, sentimental music, sunsets.
(Love, like belonging, is an uncertain partnership).
Claim your own space, never be afraid
to step out into unknown territory, armed only
with words. They will serve you well.
Love fearlessly, give everything,
and never, never regret the consequences.
Listen for your own inner music:
it has something important to tell you.
Laugh, dance, drink wine and always
remember to be kind.
© Kathleen Jones 2017
I've been dipping in and out of NaPoWriMo. I find it impossible to write a poem a day - sometimes it's a prompt I don't like, often just too busy/tired, but I'm trying to write something every day, even if it's only a few jottings. The prompt 2 days ago was to write a letter. I've also been asked to write a 'letter to my younger self' for the Royal Literary Fund website, so it's been in my thoughts for a while without me doing anything about it. So I sat on a train and did a freewrite, starting with the first words that came into my head when confronted by my sixteen year old self, 'you have no idea' - and this is the result. Still needs knocking about a bit, but I'm daring to share.
On the left is a picture of me at 16 - all romance and no sense!!