A poem on facing your past

Juliana Mun, Special Section Editor

There were whispers carried by the wind

And there was a young girl, Jewel, walking in the midst of the snow flurry 

Jewel was usually a thoughtful girl, a girl who’s head reached the clouds, 

A girl who could manifest stories in her head, 

A girl who was often picking at her nails, worried about a future no one has thought of yet


But today she couldn’t think at all

For her cheeks were chilled to the touch, 

Deep inside the wind rattled her bones, made her teeth chatter

And the wind materialized into something frightful, darkening and howling with each step. 


And whispers of the future brushed up against her ears, 

There were echoes sounding of voices, voices that did not keep quiet

It sounded like a child’s cries at first, sobs that shudder out of a body 

But then it sounded like thoughts only external and of solidity 


Jewel was clutching a coat to her body, fingers gripping tightly for some warmth. 

She was wondering if she was going crazy for she swore she heard the voices clearer now

Voices that told her, “You must go back.” 

Voices that pleaded with her, “Don’t go forward.” and “Don’t leave her behind.” 


Jewel could not think of anyone she left behind

No, she was alone out here.

Because if there was anyone with her,

She would’ve held their body for warmth, would’ve brought them with her hand in hand. 


And the further she went into the storm, the more she wished there was someone

Because the cold grew unbearable, her body was weakened

Her heart started pumping slower with each shallow breath 

— The breath that clouded in front of her lips 


Then with the sound of the storm’s cry, 

She fell onto the ground because her legs were shivering too much, 

And she realized with another roar of wind, 

That this was the end of her life, that there was no way she could go on any longer. 


It was at that thought, at that moment of surrender that a shadow appeared in the distance

It was growing closer, 

Jewel squinted to make sure and when the figure became less blurry, she confirmed

It was right in front of her now. 


The figure was a girl, just like her, but their similarities did not lie in just that

It lied in each part of their features, 

Their sloped nose, Their brown eyes, 

Their cracked lips and their knitted eyebrows. 


Jewel was staring up at another Jewel

Who looked taller, a little older, with different hair

She was holding a torch and she wasn’t cold, 

In fact even though she was in a thin sweater, it seemed the cold didn’t bother her at all


And it was then that Jewel wondered, 

If the voices were meant for her, or for this other version of her 

This older girl who seemed to be less worried, less concerned about the storm like she was

The girl who must’ve left her behind. 


“I’m sorry.” 

Future Jewel had a hand outstretched, 

“I’m sorry I left you here to suffer.” 

And Present Jewel grabbed her hand wordlessly


“I had to find you in the storm again.” 

Future Jewel whispered, “I had to find you to make it go away.” 

And she wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, if she was dreaming in wishful bliss

But the storm was disappearing, clearing up above their heads and the cold that once reigned–

Because of future Jewel– was no more. 


“Why did you ever leave me behind?” 

Future Jewel mulled over that question, 

Her fingers coming up to brush her hair behind her ear, a thoughtful glance toward her direction 

“I thought I could become something better than you.

Because up ahead in the future there is warmth, 

And I forgot about you because I was becoming something terrible.

It wasn’t until my future became cold again, 

That I remembered who I used to be. 

And came back to learn how I could become you again.” 


[A/N: This poem is based on my feelings of regret of how much I changed myself. In the past, I always wondered how much better I would feel if my future self came back to comfort me, to tell me everything would be okay. It wasn’t until I grew older like now that I realized how much I strayed from who I used to be. That it wouldn’t be the past me who was comforted, but the future me. And I came to a conclusion that to truly beat the storm (Self discovery, etc.), you must accept who you used to be and come to terms with that, because no one can truly transform to be a completely different person.]