Who thought a Caledonian sleeper was a lump of wood under a Scottish train track?

come on, don't hold back

oh
just me then?

listening as the cracks appear and another notch gouged in my ear to remind me that nothing is now as it was
but I'm still here,
still me in the mirror,
or rather
an older version,

the original was lost,
it was
a bit like me but not me

Things we
outgrow and sometimes we don't know we outgrow
because we don't miss them,

how can I be the only one
tell me I am not
because the Caledonian sleeper
has got me worried.