In light of this week’s podcast episode about remembering who you are, I wrote this poem about myself and how I want to do just that, remember who I am, in 2020…
Waking from My Slumber
It would be a great shame
to forget that I once ran races,
arms fast at my sides,
legs moving unnaturally,
feet so sure of where to go and how to get there.
And I won, those races,
every time.
I was an athlete;
A damned good athlete.
Until I wasn’t.
Oh, and how I used to write
so unfiltered and free.
Writing because I wanted to,
had to.
It was in my blood.
I shared my stories,
my worlds,
my characters,
with all who would listen.
And proudly, too.
Should I have published, back then?
Who’s to say?
But ever since,
writing has meant so much…
more.
There’s a hesitancy,
a fear,
an over-analysis of each,
sentence.
How sad it is to be
crippled, so?
That happy little geek,
who would speak and seek with glee,
she’s gone now.
Confident student,
sitting in class,
she knows things.
Though she doesn’t share.
She knows things;
knows she’ll go far.
What happened to her?
Where did she go?
Who is she now?
I forget.
I forgot what it was like to
run wild.
I forgot that I was once
strong and sure.
I forgot that a person could wield words
just because.
I forgot that creating and sharing,
was supposed to be fun.
I forgot that I used to be
excited.
Excited by this show and that world and magic.
Oh, the magic.
I lost it all.
I lost me.
But next year, oh this new decade upon us,
could I, perhaps, remember?
Could I, perhaps, be me,
again?
Not you.
Not her.
Not weak.
Not scared.
But me.
Just me.
The old me.
The true me.
The me I was meant to be.
Strong, fit, sure.
Creative, wordsmith, storyteller.
Happy, friendly, geeky.
Girl, you have it inside.
Young lady, I hope you’re still in
there.
I will be waking you, soon.
xx
S. R. Crawford 