Crack open the photo album.
I need to rediscover contentment,
and if I need to look into the past to find it,

then that's what I'll do.

Start leafing through the pages.
I've been through this dozens of times before.
What makes me think if I try once more,
I'll see something new?

But there amongst the blurry highway curiosities, badly framed landscapes
and poorly lit faces is a startling revelation
I hadn't expected to find.

This is me looking over my shoulder.
This is me watching something
that's just out of view.
This is me pretending I had what I wanted,
and this one's you.

Twilight is wandering in,
concealing evidence of uncertainty.
Empty bottles, an unwritten letter and me,
watching time go by.
Made myself believe that life couldn't be better. Settled into routine,
turned into a standstill when the thing
that was missing wasn't missing at all.

This is me looking over my shoulder.
This is me watching
something that's just out of view.
This is me pretending I had what I wanted,
and this one's you.

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