listen to the old man
he is here
he is your fate
he is who you are under
the tight skin
from dawn to dusk.

he has creepy
perplexing eyes
of experience,
with nerves not working
and legs that
don't support him anymore.

sometimes I shut myself in the toilet cubicle just to be true to myself.
I shut myself inside the four grey walls just to let myself breathe,
breathe in the foul stench of reality.