I pop the **** filled pocket in my gums
Not because of the pain
Or the feverish swelling
I let the dripping drainage
Linger on my tongue
The bitterness
Fades
It is an answer
To the tension
The struggle between
Living and dying
My body is trying
To do both at once
Cells wither and wash away
While new ones form
The DNA patterns
Weaken
A copy of a copy
Of a copy
Of a copy
Imperfections
Compounded
Upon imperfections
Replication
And multiplications
Of defective cells
That is aging
Your body waging
A battle against the decaying
But we know
We will lose the battle