I bit open a lie and it tasted like you.

I am looking at my
reflection, and I see
a young child holding
my hand.

I look down but my
palm is empty, I look up
once more, and I see a
gentlemen of senior years
with his hand on my
shoulder, I look to my side
but no hand can I find.

Confused I look up and see
myself, and realize that I
am a reflection of my past
innocence, then myself
who us  learning, and
then finally the wisdom
of age.

My days ago
are piled
with excess.

My days ahead,
clouded
with letting
go.

This day today,
empty
as the bottle
laying next
to me.

And there's
no way
to grow
young
again.