What do we do with our past selves?

I face them and try them on for size

One, is fitting a little too tightly

The other, the colour no longer suits me

The third, is too heavy to carry me to where I need to go

The many skins I have shed

Have left me raw and exposed and vulnerable

I can’t turn back

The only way is onward

And the road ahead is unpredictable

With no one left to help me

I look up to the skies and say

My body is yours

Mould me into what I must become

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