Okay - lazy wombat that I am, I have combined three tasks - poetry and life writing for the Advanced Creative Writing warm up and the final poem for June for the Unadvanced Creative Writing:
Letter to Sixteen Year Old Me
Dear Young Me, oh dear, dear Me,
I'm looking back and I can see
a girl who stuffs her face to hide
the gaping emptiness inside,
a hollow place that she can't fill
with food or sex, try as she will.
She crushes her emotions down,
her chosen mask, the tragic clown,
believing, as she does, the lies
that keep the sadness in her eyes.
The path that stretches through the years
was rough in parts, and soaked in tears.
The lessons she learned on the way
have made me what I am today.
So, Younger Me, it's up to you.
I've no advice to help you through.
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