April 22, 2021
Time is insatiable as it erases me.
It chips at the body, leaving a broken me,
It feeds on memories, and takes my mind from me.
And so bit by bit, I lose my identity.
It swallows my soul, leaving just a shell of me,
And what remains goes about its time without me.
Each day I am much less, and there is less of me,
Soon there is nothing left, leaving my shell empty.
BUT
This shell that remains, pretending to be me?
I really can’t tell, is that supposed to be me?
If time chips away, then why is there more of me?
More chins, more flab, and more hair where there shouldn’t be.
In the end if I must go through this world as me,
I must wrest back control and resume being me.
I have to accept this old and more broken me,
AFTER ALL,
Life is better when you embrace reality.
Peace out, baby.