How do we part ways with ourselves

How do we part ways with our selves?

the old wears the same comfortable coat bought years ago still stained with coffee-marks and old stars

the new takes in its hands a magazine and flips for other shades

of a freshly sown coat

the streets get wider when they are unfamiliar when you walk in new shoes

the streets are smaller with memory of the corners where kisses were stolen

Do we really part ways if we stand on a cross-road?

this is the lucky encounter
where we part ways with ourselves

as if the younger needs guidance
that only arrives by age

like dried, vintage wine
the space of a thumb

this is how departure is, a move forward
with a weight set onto your ankles

taking your weight backward
there's always something new to look forward to and something left to be buried

on your way out,
even if it is just for yourself.