A Letter to Myself in Autumn 2015
This is a low point
no questions
heart-broken, bathroom floor
again
too much held tight in your chest
every voice in your head
a frantic scream
every scream wanting to know
why you’ve ever bothered
caring for anyone
at all
I’m sorry
It doesn’t get better for a while
But just hold on a little longer
Scrape yourself off the linoleum —
love will be there soon
surprising as the first scent of spring
after the winter
truer than any promise ever made to you
This is a low point,
no questions
But love is coming,
love is coming
Grace Carlson is a writer from Washington. She writes fiction, creative nonfiction, and the occasional poem. She also writes articles on travel, mental health, writing, and books. Sometimes she’s funny, or at least that’s what her mom says. Follow her on Instagram @gracieawriter.
