Broken Spindles Birthday
My face slowly sinks,
skin melts gradually
& starts to fold.
My blood's not cold.
I don't feel disease,
no aches or agonies,
but I'm growing old.
The grey-backed glass says so.
I'm wasting away.
I'm being erased
It's my birthday,
but I feel the same.
My beard is dying grey
my pulse in slowly in my veins,
& I don't feel all-grown,
even though I am, I know.
I'm wasting away.
I'm being erased
It's my birthday,
but I feel the same.
My eye's framed by dark.
Nights & mornings have left their mark.
I'm not tired. I don't
feel the year at all.
I'm wasting away.
I'm being erased
It's my birthday,
but I feel the same.
