The past is an anchor
I can’t rid myself of
Because scars litter my body
Reminding me of late nights spent alone
With no one to cry to
But my own self

And I can’t get back
The hours I spent staring into a mirror
Pinching every imperfection
And screaming at the face I saw
Because I couldn't let myself
Accept her

I can’t go back and exchange
The horrible words I said
All because I was angry
At no one other than myself
For no good reason at all
(Besides the fact I let myself survive)

Minutes were wasted
Bent over a toilet
Spilling out everything I had
To make myself feel more beautiful
As if I could feel that way
In the first place

But that was the past
And I have late nights to come
Hours and minutes I refuse to waste
And words I can say over again
The past is an anchor
But I’ll swim towards the surface