A little piece of me

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Don’t regret
move forward
glance back in wonder
at a life some other girl lived
as I read what she wrote and
laugh/cringe in time with
how cheesy or cheeky
or simple or complicated
she believed of herself.
Sympathy for how
lost or lonely
or angry or in love
she believed of herself
Sometimes I see me in her
when she’s a step out of step
when she retreats from
the image she created
a space she believed
I wasn’t big enough to fill
afraid someone will discover
We’re not actually supposed to be here
Until then,
I write

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