I live in the past
romanticizing the ways
when people hurt
and inevitably
left
I thought I understood
I thought it was just a matter of time
missing them terribly
but somehow never
asking myself why

I found some old forgotten pictures
of myself in moments previously
entirely lost and hard to hold onto
sneaky smiles
optimism or hope
some pain as if
asking my future self
to stop before it was too late
(spoiler I didn't)

then I caught one
where my most honest form
shone through everything else
yes I wasted time
indeed I made mistakes
but how have I gone this long
without knowing
I am in fact worthy
I belong here
I am good