Bile slowly rises
Burning
As it ascends
Biting my lip
A futile attempt at blocking out pain
I unwittingly draw blood
I swallow hard
Willing food to once more descend
I carefully grasp my great-aunt's "heirloom" coat
Riddled with varying holes
Courtesy of Moths long gone
The ripe stench of musty decay clinging to my aunt's treasured relic is painful
Eye wateringly so
Looking in the mirror
I realize while fussing over the potent reeking I have failed to notice anything else
Including the source of the reeking
Or passing of time
Gasping
A hand
Freezing cold
Brittle bones haphazardly jutting out from behind crêpe-like
Graying skin
Meets my eyes even as it slowly
Tentatively
Reaches for my face
As though by magic
My face immediately begins to age
Until it matches the time weathered claw
Stepping back
I trip over my too-long clothes
Swamped as I seem to have shrunk overnight
I trip in the long forgotten fur coat
Collapsing in a pile of dust.
YOU ARE READING
Drifting Thoughts
PoetryThoughts drifted about my head No longer to be contained Spread forth across the paper Spilled ink.* *Yes, that is reference to another of my pieces; it amuses me, so why not?
