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I remember life before,

When the world seemed so much better.

And my eyes weren’t sore,

From spending pointless hours on the computer.

Sometimes, I want to ask my past self,

How I did everything I needed to on time.

With no coffee, no breaks, or any kind of help,

How, how, how, was I so perfectly in line?

I remember when I hadn’t lost that friend,

And when my head was devoid of pain.

When it didn’t feel like the absolute end,

Of the colors in my life, now so akin to stormy rain.

Am I really who I think I am?

Or am I just a different soul in a different body?

To that 8 year-old-girl who, at the time, wasn’t so damned,

I desperately want to say sorry.

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