You were fifth grade
so you were
my playground -
I buried small treasures
in your sand.

You were seventh grade,
lips sealed like my locker.
My safety, my trust..
I left my initials
inside your door.

You were tenth grade -
An open book,
a willing vessel;
I inked your pages
with my diary.

You were college.
You were shallow and empty.
I left you
with baggage full
of my least favorite memories.

You
You are now
but
I see future in you.
Perhaps

You'll be the
string that ties
these knots
and brings me
back to my center.