Issue #7: Our Tomorrow Selves

Maybe we will live past the era of robots,

And time machines will be the norm.

We could swim through oblivion

And greet our future selves.

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I would love to.

Would you?

I would love to say hi to her:

A version of me

With a tiny bit of grey about to take root,

But a face still holding on to youth,

Unwilling to let go.

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Would you?

Would you like to meet her?

Would you like to meet him?

A you with years journeying on your skin,

A bit closer to its destination.

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Who wouldn't want a chance to ask

If it's going to be okay,

If this mountain resting on your back

Will stay rooted.

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We all want the wondering to cease.

Our craving for answers lingers.

We keep asking if today's challenge

Will be tomorrow's relief,

If our smiles won't be playing

On borrowed time.

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But when we meet,

Our tomorrow selves

Will pat our heads, won't they,

And say:

That fear

That hurt

That struggle

Didn't break you.

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The mountain you carry

Will crumble to gravel,

Running down your back,

Until they become

Nothing but dust.