8/11/2024
my eyelids are scrunched firmly
a thin layer of flaky skin plunges me into space
sometimes you can see stars or suns,
but never the intricacies of a story
i imagine my eyes have turned to bone by now.
cold, raspy, off white ivory
when will it become too heavy, sinking sockets meeting my mouth
and my vision, into teeth, into taste
my tongue replaced with stone or tar
my poor teeth, well they are scared of course, so they run
puncturing my cheek, i look like driftwood
chewed holes in my head, they did, to get away
tendons don't yet rip, i can still move
but i think my brain must be melting
ice lolly slush drips and drips and drips
meets the floor, like children
i watch my muscles scream and giggle and chase
wishing they'd age
i suppose it must be just my skull now,
lost with wisdom,
looking for my influence.