Poems,  the homemade remedy

The Meeting

I had a meeting with my future self
And I mean it when I say it wasn’t a dream
She shared with me the triumph,
The glory 
That lays ahead

I was told of tales unimaginable
With battles, knights, and beasts
I was shown all the scars on my body
From the betrayals, trials, and defeats

As she sat in front of me,
I got lost in the beauty of her speech
Wearing silk my eyes confused for liquid 
She had a posture of a Queen:
One powerful,
Confident,
Yet captivatingly sweet

She put her hand upon my shoulder
And thanked me for my stubbornness
My hunger,
The anger,
That allowed her to continue
“You’ve accomplished everything you wanted and more”
She said
“I’m so proud, 
My love,
Of the decisions you are making for yourself”

I stared blankly
At the woman
In front of me 
And without a word, 
I got up to be the first to leave

I walked away without asking her any questions
As she did not tell me anything I did not know
For I know there would be no woman alive to meet with
If there was no crown to show

And I would have no problem 
Killing her myself
If she had brought me
Anything
Other than it 

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