You can't go back to how things were. How you thought they were. All you really have is...now.

We all know the sound a camera makes when it snaps a picture. Even some of the digitals do it for nostalgia’s sake.

Will I ever get control of my life? Will I always be shoved back and pushed around by those I trust?

Don't give up on me now. I'm sorry. I guess that's an odd thing to say. Because isn't that what I'm doing? Giving up?

Maybe it's not as important to you as it was for me, but that's not for you to decide.

A lot of you cared, just not enough.

That's what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you're not sure what the poet's talking about. You may have an idea, but you can't be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings.