Some days,
I feel more in touch with you than id like.
Some days, I like to look at you as the past version of myself,
other days,
I look at you
as a piece of me that won’t go away.
I wish you could unlearn all of the things that you were forced to realize;
I wish you could relearn some of the things I used to have.
The timing was ill-starred.
I parted with you as quickly as you came.
You always seem to come back to me at the most unfortunate times.
Sometimes, I wonder if I’m no longer who you are.
Maybe,
at this time,
I am simply a version of myself that resents you.
Maybe,
soon,
there will be another version of me
that is nothing
like you.