How can an old me exist in the past?
Or does this prompt require me to fast
Forward
A message in a bottle from my sequel
Versions of “I” and “me” deemed unequal
Jagged glass, tossed about the sea, deemed polished
An unavoidable trajectory praised or admonished
Am I ever new, if perpetually used?
If the old us is younger, are we not confused?
Bemused
The past and future writing in the present tense.
Therefore I choose, to write from the end. Stanzas stacked, likely not to comprehend
(Lest you choose to read from the end to here. Or both, for you have free will, my dear)

Your dear friend
The older, new me, most sincere
I’m typing it early, for this hemisphere
I hope this doesn’t reach you too late
The last we spoke, “is not” wasn’t “ain’t”
Do you still like to paint?
An emotional state of inclusivity
Your interpersonal, personality
An ephemeral state of relativity
Will be
The small that you were, and you are, and
Or plummeting down hill
From slowly ascending
Glad to see you still find a thrill
Lie
Yet the imagery of a heart, is a symmetrical
The muscular breakdown of a thigh
Similarly, the tension of a bicep
Our chest
Inside
How strange to know what a heart looks like
Stare
You’ve observed, despite being told not to tear
You’ve stretched knowing that you could
Omnipotence
Accepting a life in pursuit of infinite
Ignorance
My how you’ve found bliss, devoid of
Good evening, self