By Mya Rogers, Associate Creative Writing Editor
It’s not that I thought movement was something easy;
In fact, I knew it would be the most uncomfortable I’ve ever felt,
But I still wasn’t prepared to play this game of cards,
Especially not with the unlucky hand, that I was dealt.
Not a Jack, Queen, or King in sight-
My brother, mother, and father are missing too,
So that now I am left helpless and alone
Thinking, what the hell am I meant to do?
I’m new to this- still getting used to the rules of the game
And still getting used to playing it alone,
But I’m not a child anymore, and I can’t rely on my parents for help
(I just wasn’t prepared for the realities of being grown).
Still, time must pass and there’s nothing I can do to stop it,
Meaning my turn is arriving sooner than I thought,
But I’m not prepared to make a move without the help of my brother
Because without him here, I forget all that he taught.
Yet suddenly, the cards are being taken from my hands
And instead, are being placed down on the table;
In a confused state, I look around to see who did that,
Only to notice new people holding my hands, keeping my shaking nerves stable.
At first, they were all nothing other than strangers,
But with every other round I grew to know them more,
To the point that I didn’t want them to leave my side
Because they stopped my broken heart from feeling so sore.
So now I sit at this final round,
Alone still, but this time a lot less afraid,
Since the past version of me has moved on,
And with that move, a newer, better, version has been made.
As I said from the start, I knew this was never going to be easy,
But it’s also something that I’ll never regret,
For, without proceeding with this extreme movement,
My new friends, and my new self, I never would have met.
Image via Klim Musalimov on Unsplash