"Things I Wish I Could Tell My 15 Year Old Self & Other Poems" by Hanna Smith
Please wash and moisturize your face.
I promise you are not fat, I would kill to weigh what you weigh.
Hug your Uncle John.
He gives the best hugs and you will miss them.
It is okay to be loud and take up space.
Hug your brothers and take a moment to appreciate that they are both shorter than you.
This will not last long.
It is not your fault
You will one day have better friends I swear.
Do not fault yourself for loving too much.
It is one of my favorite things about us. Manage your blood sugar better.
It is difficult but do not become hard and cynical.
The walls you are building are still barriers I’m working to demolish.
So just don’t build them.
Stop sleeping with makeup on.
Better yet forget makeup all together because mom is right you don’t need it.
Mom is right a lot.
It is not your fault
Call Mary because we didn't’t know that the last time would be the last time and I’d kill for just
a few more conversations.
You didn't’t love him you loved who you thought he was.
Go crawl in bed with your mom, or Res, or Bryan you’ll miss it once you don’t live at home anymore.
Do not share your light with people who do not appreciate it.
Remember it’s okay that your writing kinda sucks right now.
We’re a published poet in my present because of all your shitty writing attempts in your present.
It is not your fault
Appreciate your two functioning knees.
And on that note stay on crutches the full week the doctor recommends.
Let yourself fall in love with the boy from far away.
He will accept all your brokenness no questions asked.
And show you what love should be.
Without ever kissing your lips or touching your skin.
He will break you heart but do not be afraid to love him anyway.
Tell mom what happened.
The pure love she has for you will be better than therapy.
But please go to therapy.
The therapist will also tell you.
It is not your fault
But the most important thing I can say to you is thank you.
Thank you for holding on.
Even if it’s just one day at a time.
Even on days you feel like it definitely is your fault.
Because that means I get to exist right now to write this poem to you.
Because believe it or not at 19 we’re pretty thankful to have survived the part of our life you’re living right now.
"Magic Trick" by Hanna Smith
“You are worthless.”
Words that have beckoned to me from the darkest parts of myself.
The first time I heard them I was twelve.
Dropped like a bomb from the lips of one of the two people meant to love me unconditionally.
Funny how after twenty years you are still finding new and interesting ways to let me down.
You seemed to have made a sort of game out of tricking me into believing that things could be
different.
Talk of change that whisper to the parts of me that want to believe in you.
You seem to draw a sick pleasure from pulling the rug from beneath my feet.
Time after time I am for some reason
surprised.
Being your daughter is a bit like being a volunteer at a terrible magic show.
Though a deep part of me knows that you will actually saw me in half.
I continue to let you pluck me from the audience.
You think after all the times I have sewed myself back together.
I’d be in on the trick.