ever so often, something from my past comes back to remind me of the person I had left behind, the life no longer in my reach.
silly little mistakes here and there. all the dreams and versions of myself that I had given up.
no matter the amount of times I fail or end up disappointing myself, I tell myself to believe there's still a future for me, that there's still a redemption point. but what I always had at the back of my mind is how it's true, but the future will look so different. an entirely different painted story of the end. could it ever still be beautiful?
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