You take a look behind,
of the traces you left imprint.
Misadventures, memories to keep
and pages you might had been.
Circumstances tried to make you
see the sanity of it all.
But, at some point, insanity
was exactly what you were looking for.
People came and went,
some stayed on from time to time.
Chapters you wondered if you could ammend, pages you let it run on rewind.
You kept interrupting conscience,
kept playing around with guilt.
Like if one last could play on,
to indulge further, you would.
Another two years older
but three more steps behind.
You keep looking back on the traces
you left along with time(from time to time).