i've been dusting off these scrapbooks

retreating my fingers away from sticky cobwebs

i promise i just wanted to take a look

not even that, just a half-hearted glimpse

at what used to be,

what could have been,

the silly things i have said,

and pretend time is an old friend

i know what you must be thinking

"i bet you're a history major"

and the answer is no, a paused psych major

with their own anguish and flaws

but truthfully, i don't think they're that much different

except this photo album won't be looked at during a class

even though i'm truthfully still learning

from the over exposure and each bent edge 

what a funny thing it is

to look at a happy memory

but not be able to smile or laugh

because you know what happens next