poem day 10

i’m growing old and wrinkly
on the inside
my brain, mottled
my heart, tepid
my lungs, indolent
sooner or later i’m going to break down
if only they’d let me
if only they didn’t try to prove me wrong

trying to give me more life when i’m already full
tempting me with seconds and thirds
plastering it on the surface
with spackle and glitter,
needles and glue

i’m growing old and wrinkly
on the inside
but nobody cares
everyone knows it’s what’s on the outside that counts

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