A seemingly ancient photograph
Capturing a perfect moment in time
Eternalising our friendship
Sealing us in our prime

A photo taken in the spur of the moment
As an attempt to follow a new "selfie" trend
Within the seats of a worn down minivan
We all sat and laughed as friends

At the young ages of 11 and 12
Still quite young and naive
We drove around the endless fields
Laughing and singing as we were free

We called ourselves The Gang
Though we rarely did anything wrong
The six of us were so close back then
It was the only time I felt like I belonged  

Stopping the car behind the willow tree
With its branches drooping low
Rays of sunlight shining down
But at that time we didn't quite know

Let's take a picture

A black iPod touch
Was the thing to capture this moment
we all posed with the peace sign
In time we are forever frozen

This picture that at the moment meant nothing
It was all just meaningless fun
But now we see that during that time
It was the last day that we were together as one

Our lives have all gone different ways
In complete opposite directions
We haven't seen each other in years
We no longer hold that same connection

The photograph sits within my room
My most treasured possession I own
etched into the bottom of the frame
The words that we once promised

We'll meet again someday

Everyone thinks she’s beautiful
While she thinks she’s ugly
Everyone thinks she’s perfectly skinny
While she thinks she’s fat and
She’s always put a fake smile
Like in a photograph
Where a fake smile can hide a thousand tears
She’s the girl In the photograph
Her fake smile can hide a thousand tears

I don't think I actually know what I look like.

I feel like pieces of me are these really ugly misshapen puzzle pieces I stitch together to make a cubist painting of what I could be. The mirror sometimes shows me a girl that's worth something but in pictures, I see a pair of arms, legs, eyes, ears, a nose, a body. Someone's body. Out of 380 photos I take, maybe there's one good picture, but that one picture usually doesn't even look like what I think I look like. Is that weird? Once in a while I catch a glimpse of myself and get a little startled because I don't look like what I thought I did... but then that moment passes and I turn back into the puzzle pieces that don't make sense, even to me. I then return to the cycle of piecing them together again, trying to figure out what the hell I actually look like.

They say that the time never stops
But didn’t they tell you that I can even stop drops?
It’s me, the photograph, who’ll hold you
Till the time it gets better, even if the time flew
People say that I’m just a copy, just an ‘it’
But I’m capable of holding moments, making everything lit
I’ll make you remember those spring birds
I’ll make you cherish flowers of what you’ve heard
I’ll make you cry by those gestures so small
I’ll make you wonder by those abstracts you call
And I’ll make you feel a thing called love
And a thing called memory
And a thing called home
Cause it’s me, the photograph, who’ll hold you
Till the time it gets better, even if the time flew

18 Jan. 17
21:57