Altered

Flashes of pictures,
memories.
They’re all of me, but
it’s who I used to be.
The old me.

I see my face,
still the same,
in the frame of my mirror,
but everything around me
seems different,
feels altered.
Except,
it’s all the same really.

I see faces I know,
faces I love.
The same people,
but different,
altered.
Older in mind, older in spirit.
They are not completely as I remember.
They are new people,
with old faces.

Time changes everything.
A year. A month. A week. A day.
Even just one
moment
changes everything.
Turning the familiar,
foreign.

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