From time to time
Isn't it strange to think that you were yourself, untouched before I knew you? Then we were inseparable. Now we sit inside ourselves, once again.
Before I met you, you were clean shaven. On our first date you sported a moustache. It pricked my skin when you kissed me. I can still feel the burn on my neck.
I don't know much about the rest of the person you were before I met you.
And the person I knew doesn't exist anymore.
I shrugged, pushing it down down down the lanes in my mind.
Then it blasted open when I saw a picture of you on Christmas Day with a clean shaven face like the one you used to have before I met you.
Because that's it isn't it?
Life goes on.
And we get mad when we don't go with it.