The world became so large again,
Or maybe I actually became small
A 20’s me again, unsure of myself.
The 20’s me again, a woman who had not yet come into her own.
I hate this feeling.
Where I’m not enough, not smart, or talented, or pretty enough.
I’m just the chic I was back then,
Too shaky in her delivery,
Too awkward in her pauses.
It’s funny how things take you back.
Leave you at the doorstep of ancient history.
This isn’t my stop, driver, I don’t live here anymore.
This isn’t my home.