Who I am today would melt away like falling snowflakes during freezing winters upon meeting the ground, for I would tear down the foundations to everything that built me. I would go back to change everything that makes me strong today. Arrogantly and ignorantly, I would rearrange days to fit my own endeavors; whatever pleases me that I will do. And those who’ve caused me pain I would exact vengeance. I would avoid hurt as if running from a plague, and strategically erase all traces of my own crime scene. Indeed, if I could build a time machine, I would fill my life with days of sunlight and sorrow would be a stranger to me. Childhood, Adulthood— I doubt if I would know the difference, for innocence and naiveté would cover me like fine linen. As such, my shoulders would not know what it’s like to bear heavy loads. My smooth skin would easily chip away at the sight of danger, my mind would know nothing of sacrifice, and in times of distress I would flood my bed with tears. They would fall dangerously from my eyelids like liquid apologies for not knowing the zip, slither, snap, and thump of a broken heart; for not understanding the crackling crunch of a spirit defeated; for pulling back the wounds of wisdom only to create outlines of invisibility, for I would cease to exist.
Don’t try to build time machines to go back to relive mistakes. Everything you are and everything you’ve endured is what makes you who you are today, flaws and all. That said, never linger on old wounds so much that you wish to go back. What is done is done. Meanwhile, the future has plenty of room for change. Embrace it.