remembering the one i used to be

i realized something i keep saying, “if it were the old me”

and i do love all my selves but she, the older one she burned brighter quieter, maybe but wilder sharper braver funnier, too, i think

lately, someone came into my life not for long (maybe not at all) but they held up a mirror and now i stand bare before it

bare before them watching myself through their eyes as every part i loved, hated, bled for screams out of me

and still, i love them every cell of mine every version but oh, how i miss the one that came before

should i accept this self i don’t know

i feel like a pair of flowers dried and pinned to a bedroom wall fading but still the most tender form of beauty that decay can offer

and i’m still here watching willing myself to be both the wilt and the root

Tools & Techniques; mixed media digital drawing, collage elements, stock photo textures 2025, made with Procreate