Isn’t it bizarre how I’ll
see my reflection ten years later
and desperately crave, miss,
wish, hiss for the face that once was.
When right now I pull it a part
I think and yearn for the future
I worry about what’s to come
and picture myself in pictures
captured with my loved ones
new faces I can’t yet place.
Right now I try and change
every crease, painting
crevice of my character.
When myself (future) will give anything to
say another hello to the face
that once was. A face I have now
but will be mine still,
It will live as a gift I’ll never receive.