the inevitable

*thirty-nine

i think it's incredible to see myself grow so far from myself but end up in the same place i've been in. it's like staring at old shoes i had so fondly slipped into everyday years prior, for something that used to be all shiny and regular to something of the past, something that i eerily gaze upon after forgetting it's existence. to be quite frank, i don't remember who i am before you. i stare at disbelief and am fascinated with who i was. i remember being so frustrated over the fact that my words were slipping and what i once found so utterly poetic to be nothing but the dramatic bouts of a brooding preteen. it's captivating to understand the minuscule context of such big feelings, but i want to find that again. nothing is ever enough for me and i gripe over the uncomfortable feelings i used to have. i miss finding validity in a dead social media platform where the silence is great?

vulnerability flows through my veins
foggy glass windows stare back at me
i haven't been home.
i stare at the life i used to lead
my old thoughts are strewn
across the floor like dirty laundry.
i sift through my belongings
and hold them up to the light.
shards of who i was before
i piece them back together
and regress towards what was.
the pieces don't fit completely and
there's gaps that are too small to fix.
i work diligently and smile to myself.
to opening the old chapter,
and finding something new after all.

i still got it!