Old

Minimal effort ground to dust
the self-certified chalk
that I used to lock
my old self away.

Now, I feel the old way again,
boarding trains of thought
that I left in an old city
with old feelings and old memories

You bring them back.
That’s all I’ll say about that
yet you don’t have to do much

I’m the weak one,
hopeful, delusional and lonely
You seem self-sufficient
calm, content, satisfied

I’ve met you atop your staircase,
held you by the legs
You’ve sat on the banister
with my arms round your shoulders

Never minding,
you have never minded
but I wish you did.
As that would lock old selves away
with the steel bolts they deserve.