remember where you came from the house, down the hill, beside the train tracks. you were just born, your eyes not used to the bright lights surrounding you. you were twelve and uncomfortable in your body and your home. the house in the country, still beside those train tracks. you were thirteen and dealing with your first breakup. your heart rumbled just like the shelves on your walls did when the train sped past. the house next to the main road, beside the dog that never stopped howling. you were fifteen and going to homecoming. you were sixteen and taking the ACT. you were seventeen and getting up at 2 am to volunteer yet again. you were eighteen and driving and laughing and dancing at prom and worrying and hugging your friends and graduating and crying and leaving for college. remember where you came from, but look at where you’re going.
remember where you came from
you were eighteen and sleeping in a too tall dorm bed, laughing under covers, sending vines to friends.
you were nineteen and in your first apartment. scared and lost, figuring out love for the first time.
you were twenty and in the green apartment. isolated. alone. terrified. he lured you like prey and got you to himself.
you were twenty one and in the apartment you could never afford because he wanted it- no strings attached, no name on the lease, the dotted line underneath your signature ready to be fashioned into a noose whenever necessary.
you were twenty three and living with old friends and new. making the best memories of your life until
you were twenty five and fucking it all up. how can you ever recover?
by turning twenty six and twenty seven and twenty eight.
you moved back home, went through a world wide quarantine, fell in love and lost it, tried again and succeeded.
you're not where you thought you'd be, but you're happier than ever. don't let the bad moments stop you from having a bright future.
remember where you came from, but look at where you're going.
