I cannot help but think of how,
            If things had gone just a little differently,
                        I would have been someone that I could be proud of.

Funny to think how things that happened so long ago could have an impact so many years later.

I wish I could have been someone else,
            Someone who was
just a little bit more considerate,
just a little bit more kind,
just a little bit more of a better person.

Maybe that self-loathing wouldn't be.

            Maybe these versions of myself exist somewhere else,
in some different, alternate timeline where
she is not dead.
                        I could be her, I could be so much better, I could reach that impossible-

But I am who I am.

Much as I despise myself for being
            Unable to be her.