A Love Letter (To Myself)

By:  Zoe Myers-Bochner

Hello there, me.

I know I’ve been gone a lot lately. I’ve been inside others’ heads instead of yours.

Shifting their thoughts around. Changing how they see others, how they see

themselves. It’s been fun.

It lasted too long though. We started to become who I saw through others’ eyes.

Who I saw through a tiny screen. I looked closely at the bark of a tree and it hurt my

eyes.

I’ve missed you lately. I’ve missed your tangled hair and leaves under a bright blue

sky and then getting up with a hopskipjump away.

People speed by on bicycles with music pounding through their ears in time with

their feet pedaling, kicking, and you wave out of the blue and they stop for a split

second then time races on and on

but you don’t.

If somebody had dropped a fishing line through the dome of the sky, you would have

grabbed on and nearly floated away. I had to pull you back down again.

I probably should have let you go. Nobody’s as weird as you, kid.