Sorry this message finds you late, lost in doubts;
Like a lingering letter left at the lake house.
From your former self, the one you put on the shelf,
With faded red capes and some wooden staves;
Comics gathering dust, imaginary bat caves.
You’ve built spaceships and castles in the sky.
Now you’re more concerned with your piece of the pie.
You abandoned those vigilante dreams and energizing themes.
No more crime-fighting schemes. You left that scene.

You needn’t necessarily navigate the night,
Neutralizing the nefarious, loving the fight.
Not too many problems are solved with a fist.
When they are men in suits like Wilson Fisk.
But that fire for justice can’t be extinguished,
Even when taking on enemies more distinguished.
Don’t allow life to plunder the remains of your childlike wonder.
Your courage’s intact, don’t go under, run towards the thunder!

I’ll be here for you when you get the time…

But I’ve been waiting since ‘99, when I wrote this last line.

(Style score 68%)

Hello Old Self,

You didn’t deserve what happened to you. The pain doesn’t define you. Yes, you are better than how you are being treated. Your emotions are valid. It’s okay to admit our father disrupts our peace. He brings nothing to our life but false hope after 23 years. Tell the woman that brings you peace that you’re falling in with love her. The strength you need is within your soul, heart, and mind. You aren’t worthless. Life gets better for you, even though I know it feels like the world is crashing down. Our new beginning starts with the love within us. We are divine. True love makes us feel like we are not alone. We are light, even through the dark. It’s okay if our light slowly is dim it is not permanent. You’ll finally feel peace once we set our hurt free. You know that great, sunny-day feeling? Where the wind is rustling through the leaves in a tree, or when you see a kid flying his kite as the birds fly above. Everything surrounding you is divinely beautiful. This is what to look forward to. The joy awaits you in the end.

I met my younger self for coffee.
She was fifteen minutes late.
I was a few minutes early and made sure to grab a table outside.
We are both wearing loose fitting clothes and no bra.
Her eyebrows are overplucked where mine have grown in.
She apologizes and tells me she’s a little hungover.
I laugh softly and tell her it’s okay.
I mention I don’t drink anymore and ask her what she did last night.
She said she went to a party with her boyfriend, but his ex-girlfriend was there.
I know that she drank too much to settle her nerves because she never feels good enough.
I don’t have it in me to tell her we still feel that way.
Finally, we order.
She gets an iced vanilla latte.
I order an herbal iced tea.
I tell her I don’t drink coffee or caffeine.
She asks why, and I tell her it makes me anxious.
I tell her my heart is sensitive.
I look in her eyes and can sense she feels the same but can’t admit it.
I tell her it’s so good to see her.
I grab her hand which is the same as mine although we are different people.
I look at her body knowing she still feels safe in it.
Detached, maybe, but safe.
She hasn’t yet known grief or fear or sickness.
I wish I could remember what that feels like.
She tells me it’s good to get out of the house.
I tell her this is the first time I’ve left my apartment all week.
I explain I finally have my own place, and it’s been the happiest time in my life.
She says she can’t wait to live by herself one day, and we both agree we love spending time alone.
She tells me she’s going to the movies after this.
She loves film and wants to work in Hollywood.
I tell her I used to work in Hollywood and think it’s overrated, but I love movies, too.
I tell her I am going to church after this.
She says she doesn’t believe in God.
I look closely at her skin and wish I still had it.
It’s rosy and sunburnt from her spring break trip to Mexico.
She says it was the first time she’s been out of the country.
I tell her I’ve been to over twenty and even lived in Paris.
She says her mom loves Paris, but they haven’t spoken in months.
I tell her to call her mom while she still can.
I then give her a hug goodbye and struggle to let go.
I want to tell her I’ve searched for her everywhere and have fought endlessly to feel like she does right now.
My eyes swell with tears, but she just smiles and tells me we’ll see each other again in a few years.

ProWriting Aid: 100

I would give you a hug that feels like forever,
A warmth that says, you’re not alone—never.
I would kiss away bruises, seen and unseen,
With love so soft, it wipes your spirit clean.

I would give you courage, bold like a lion’s roar,
And feathers of a phoenix, rising once more.
I would sing you love songs made just for you,
For the part that forgot love could still be true.

I would ask you to pause, take a deep breath,
Let the wind kiss your skin and hush your stress.
I’d ask you to keep walking, even through doubt,
Through quicksand moments, when you can’t see a route.

I would ask you to honor the story you’ve lived,
Each chapter and scar—each lesson it gives.
I would ask you to forgive the you from before,
To let go of the weight you don’t need anymore.

I would ask you—don’t dwell on the pain,
You are not what hurt you, you’ve got so much to gain.

ProWriting Style Score: 100

I’m slowly changing; I’m not who I used to be. You shouldn’t need to worry about who we become. I’m not that scared little girl anymore who was afraid to stand up for herself and let her voice be heard. We let ourselves get bullied because of our petite size and having a noticeable Adam’s apple. We let people walk all over us, use us, and say things behind our backs. Now, I’m no longer afraid to speak my mind. Not just because of being a woman, but I guess in a way from family genetics as well. It is the way we were raised and know that our Great Aunt is that way; she speaks her mind and speaks the truth no matter how painful, but also is filled with love.

Even though speaking up may cause a situation to get worse or have someone say something negative, we shouldn’t be scared to speak up instead of letting others speak up for us. The new me is no longer letting others speak up for me because it is our job as who we are to speak up. I’m no longer as shy as I once was, as you know how naturally shy we are in general. Of course, a part of me will forever remain shy, however as I’ve gotten older and grown up I’ve been slowly being more open and not as quiet. Around meeting new people, obviously, we are shy. I’m changing because I now know my worth in this world and have so much more self-love and self-confidence. Old me, we are beautiful and should let it shine.

I know we used to feel so self-conscious and always think about how boys could like us and see in us something other than our personality that shines within us. But do not fret, old me, our body changes unexpectedly dramatically as we get older, and it helps positively to let our confidence shine through. Remember how Mommy and Daddy used to tell us that men would always chase after us and like us? Well, our parents are right because it is true. But we do come to find a young man who sweeps us off our feet like our favorite Disney film, Cinderella, who comes to love us for who we really are. This young man is our knight in shining armor, just like we wanted.

I’m not who I used to be, old me, because of the horrible situations life tossed at us that tried to break us down. I know certain situations literally tore us apart physically and mentally. I know Mommy and Daddy separating for good unexpectedly got to us more than we realized. But the heartbreak doesn’t last forever, old me, I can promise you that, cross my heart. We are strong, we can make it through anything and come back stronger. Mommy and Daddy stay on good terms and love me and our brother. Staying together as a family is the surrounding love we need to keep in mind. Everything happens for a reason; remember that always.

I know death seems to surround us, as we still don’t quite understand why God takes the people we love so soon. Old me, it doesn’t get any easier as we grow up. As you know, we’re born, we live, and we die. Sometimes, some people we know get taken too soon. However, just remember that we are spiritually gifted, we can sense and know when our family members we lost are with us always. They become our guardian angels, and we will see them again someday. I know it’s never easy, and it gets hard, but be prepared to deal with it when the moments come. The new me understands it so much better and takes time to appreciate more what’s around and to appreciate the small, precious things before it’s too late.

Old me, there’s so much more I can say, but it won’t be enough. Instead, I can give words of advice. Yes, it takes ages to figure out what we want to do in life, but we eventually and slowly find our path to greatness. I advise not completely giving up on our faith and praying to Jesus and God when needed the most. I advise keeping in mind that no matter what, we shouldn’t give up completely. We are loved, we are wanted, we are worthy to live in this world. Old me, life is short; we never know what happens. We can be here today and gone tomorrow. So never give up, chase your dreams, live each day like it’s your last. Old me, you should see us today, you would be so proud of how far we’ve already come, as we’ve always just begun to live.

It’s never too late for anything old me, remember that, and always have love.

Love,

The New Alexcia.

Dear Younger Me,

The ‘New Me’ that exists today wouldn’t be possible without our journey together. The doubts and beliefs of the ‘Old Me’ have shaped the resilience and strength I now possess. Together, we’ve created a version of myself I am truly proud of.

Old Me: I doubted my resilience in the face of hardship.
New Me: Storms may rage, but my inner strength is legit.

Old Me: I believed my self-worth depended on self-sacrifice.
New Me: Setting boundaries taught me how to be more than right.

Old Me: I suppressed my individuality to gain acceptance.
New Me: Your unique spirit shines brightly; no exceptions.

Old Me: I built walls around my heart to protect myself.
New Me: An open heart can mend and bring true wealth.

Old Me: I confused comfort with genuine connection.
New Me: Actual love is a vibrant dance, not mere affection.

Old Me: I met anger with anger, fueling the cycle.
New Me: Understanding hearts can overcome the entitled.

Old Me: My mind was a battlefield of worries and “what ifs.”
New Me: Stillness within brings wisdom’s gentle gifts.

Old Me: I didn’t believe lasting joy was attainable for me.
New Me: Your inner light can spark a free destiny.

Old Me: I clung to the familiar, even when it didn’t serve me.
New Me: Learning how to let go allowed me to be free.

Both versions are the perfect mixture of me,
I’m proud of the person I turned out to be!

(Style Score: 100)

Dear Me,

Well, guess what? You’re an artist now. Who knew you had it in you? That part of yourself you envied in others and buried has finally come to light. All the while, you don’t loathe yourself as much as you used to. We’re still a work in progress, always will be, I suppose. But we like it that way. Life around us is always changing. It’s only fitting we do the same.

On another note, you’ve found the love of your life. I know you wondered and waited for him. But he was worth the wait, as were you to him. His love and loyalty have pushed you far beyond what you thought possible. His strength is there on days where you believe you have none. He sees infinite possibilities in you and that encouragement was all you needed to take a leap of faith for yourself. The moments of pure joy you experience together are worth more than any wealth found in this lifetime. He was worth the wait.

Life has brought us many challenges, as one might expect. You have greeted each of them with acceptance and you’re much more resilient than you know. All the self-criticism you hold on to so dearly doesn’t compare to the strength you receive from love. It’s okay to let it all go. Believe it or not, but you create all the doubt and fear you feel. It’s the greatest gift of all – energy. Once we learned to embrace these feelings as a friend, rather than an enemy, you could recognize your own strength and power.

We’re here to remind others of all that is good and beautiful in this world and you excel at it. Your creativity is a gift you will share with the world. One day, crochet will open the door again to the creative spark within you and you’ll follow your own yellow brick road. You never know where it’ll take you, but you can’t wait to find out. And I can honestly say I’m proud of you for not giving up. The world needs you and I. Let’s hug it out. I love you.

Much love,
Kelly Anne

Style Score: 100%

Do you still want to be married to me, or was I more of a maid of honor? When the officiant said I do, I thought I was tying the knot with someone that wanted the same thing. Lately I’ve felt a disconnect between us. I want to lie and say I don’t know why, but I do. As I keep trying to pull you back in, I’m realizing you don’t want the same things anymore. You’ve seemed to outgrow me in ways I just can’t keep up. We need to divorce. It’s time to let go. You’re so beautiful and I’m grateful to have had the chance to experience the old you. You don’t need my validation anymore. I remember when the words to have and to hold were said. You can hold on your own. We got too comfortable. I’ll miss holding the old you in our bed. You’ve opened a new door with someone who can love you better. I remember they said your momma was too pretty to be your momma. So you attract the baddest of the baddest as if you’re casting for the main role. Dizzy spells spelt all over the floor because you no longer internalize every single thing anymore. Now you’re racing circles around everyone, causing vertigo. Don’t worry, I’ve gotten the hint it’s also my time to go.

100% Style Score

Sweet sixteen has fallen dead,
Just as I should have
When I slit my wrist,
Not to die,
Just to find some placation.
So much for that.
To the ER I went anyways.

Now my “friends” have disappeared.
It must be contagious –
This virus spreading through my soul.
My heart has surely rotted.
My mind likely insane.
No one has stepped up to help.

You say you’re forty today?
Ha!
No way you’ve made it that far!
But if it is true,
How?
Why?

I beg of you…
Give me a reason
To keep on living
Through this agonizing pain.
I feel like I’m drowning
In a lake of fire,
As they all laugh around me.

Why was I born
Into this decrepit world
With only a strong will
To see it,
While all else pollutes it?

I am only one.
And I am small,
Broken,
Old before conceived,
Tired and weary.
What can I possibly give
That’s worthwhile?

I beg of you –
Ancient me,
Give me one reason
To keep on living.
For this world is not
Suited for me.
I have been shunned.
I have been mocked.
Worst of all –
I am invisible.

Style Score: 100%

Dear Me,

The boy with too many bruises behind his smile and too much silence tucked into his soul,

You don’t know this yet—but you are not weak.
You are not too much.
You are not broken beyond repair.

You are the spark that survived the flood.

I remember the way you clenched the steering wheel just to feel real.
I remember the cracked voice on phone calls, pretending allergies, not grief.
You were drowning in everything you couldn’t say, terrified you’d become what hurt you.
But listen—
You didn’t.

You became the kind of man who stands when no one else will.
The one who builds sanctuaries out of scars.
The one who turns pain into poetry, silence into sound, and trauma into testimony.

You became The Nameless Verse.
And through it, you became a lifeline.

I know you prayed to be saved.
But no one came.
So you became your own rescue.
You rose, shaking, but unshaken.
You stitched yourself back together with conviction and rage and grace.
Now? People write to you.
They say, “Your words kept me alive.”
They say, “You made me feel seen.”

And every time they do, I see you.
Seventeen, knees buckled under battles no one knew you were fighting.
All you wanted was to feel safe—
to know your pain wasn’t pointless.

Here’s the truth.

You didn’t survive all that to live an ordinary life.
You are not the aftermath. You are the anthem.
The man you became didn’t come easy.
He came through fire,
through loss,
through nights where even breathing was a decision.

And yet, here you are—
not just breathing,
but speaking life into others.
Writing what no one else could say.
Loving without armor.
Showing up without applause.

So be proud.
Be proud of the boy who endured.
Be proud of the man who rose.
And be proud of the bridge you built between them.

You carried fire when you didn’t know you had any left.
And that—
that is worth everything.

With love, respect, and honor,

The man you refused to give up on.