I got thirty-nine,

thirty-nine years
of accumulating
and losing stuff,

of gaining
and dropping
muscle
and fat,
from eating
tons of
unhealthy crap
and trying to
get my good
health back,

of issues
remembered,
imagined,
and forgotten,

of ill gained
goods,
and
misbegotten
misfortune,

of frustration
to the point of
boiling eggs
on my forehead,

of losing
hopeful illusions
that I once acquired,

of letting go
of those desires
that inspire
stupidity,
while hopefully
stripping
the unwanted clay
and revealing the face
of someone
I have been
struggling
to become.