Time Stops For No One

I write to you…

“I am falling apart
My skin
is running loose
Can you see this?
I am getting old and it
is
showing

the lines around my eyes
they are so thin
and fine

the assassins of the
passing years
no longer
hiding
they have
been
adept
bastards

I have been running
running
running

Yet no amount of diversion
is keeping
time’s
patient
and skilled
murderous
taskmasters
at bay”

You read my letter
chuckle lightly
for
my vanity
is amusing

“We All Age”

There is no one
to hear my
whimpering pleas

I wither and wisp away
dust settling
on the
eaves

My worn aging face
A topography of sorts
Where I’ve been
Where I’ve yet to go

Yet
This is where I am now.

X
You Are Here.

Let me just stop and rest for a spell.
I’m in no rush
For the next destination.

The Real Question

When all is said and done

when my fingers are stuck

curled and crippled

in clawed curvature

aged and arthrithic

 

when my breasts

flesh flattened and flaccid

hang and droop

tumbling out against

my wrinkled waist

 

when my eyes

clouded and closed

squinting up and away

barely grasping images

too youthful

too fast

too unknown

 

when every aspect

of my physical being

is falling into disrepair

has become completely

and utterly

unattractive

 

When my mind is a junkyard

full with bits of broken memories

imagined slights

pockets of mucked mire

where all fond remembrances

have drowned and disappeared

pits of putrescence

where once

was living thought

 

When all is said and done

in our life

 

This life

which we are sharing

 

Will you still stand by my side?