Letter to the 15 year old me.

Published July 27, 2015 by Shreya Rajvanshi

You probably don’t know me, yet,
And probably will never meet me
Either, but you’re someone I know
Like the palm of my hand, I know
Just which line crosses your thumb
And meets your ring finger, right
At the top, I also how you’ll be wearing
Your hair to school everyday,
And how you’ll organise your bag
And books, how you’ll be hoping to
Sit next to the same old pretty faces,
At some new, different places,
And gush about how your summer
Passed, or all the places you visited,
But when you’ll be the only one
Talking, and you’ll be the only one
Listening, you’ll wear a new emotion
Of alienation, of despair, on seeing
“Your” old faces with newer,
Prettier, fresher ones, and how
“Your” new places have been occupied
By new, dark, strange eyes and bodies,
You’ll meet a boy who had girls falling
To his feet, standing by his arms,
Smiling and twirling, and how you’ll
Be the only one not exhibiting this
Attraction, and it’ll sting him, and
It’ll sting him so bad that he’ll make
It bite you, but hey, don’t worry,
Scratches are just new tattoos,
They hurt initially, but my, oh my,
Don’t they look unique,
Engraved on your skin like that!
You’ll also see red blots on your
Answer sheets, but no, don’t you
Turn that curve upside down,
Just remember how red symbolises
Love, fire, and passion, and
Everything that you are,
And mother might grow a little
Impatient, and papa a little weary,
But stop,
Blink, breathe,
Take another deep breath
And read
This letter, written to you,
From you.
By you.

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21 comments on “Letter to the 15 year old me.

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