I, this child
of the late 50's

never thought
he would make it

all the way to this
the Noughties.

Time dresses in the days
of 2015.

These days are not
flattering.

My body
handcuffed to time

struggles into July to be
confronted with

yet another
** hum...birthday.

I'm Time's hostage.
Time's foot!

Time looks at my body.
It's not exactly. . .

wearing very well now
...is it?

And yes it's true
my body is

distressed, frayed
and worn at the edges.

"You must meet my old friend Death..."
Time smiles.

"But, not yet...not yet!
Time smirks.

The handcuffs bite into my flesh.
The red welts break...bleed.

A little touch of
Stolkholm Syndrome.

Me thinks!

Even though I still seek
to escape.

"Ok...Ok!" I say
"Let's go greet...the 15th!"

"Happy Birthday!"
my friends yell.

"Go to Hell!" I mumble
underneath my breath.

"Ahhh...yes...eh...thanks!"
I lie.

Blow my candles out one by
...one. . !

I sing Tom Waits
to my self.

The icing melts