Piled on, like sauce on pasta
Each day it bends a little more
Weak knees tremble
and muscles ache
Mind’s folly drifts left of center
Dancing becomes labored

Music fades like old jeans,
just not as comfortable
Desires leak in puddles
wiped up before
thoughts can breathe

And then it breaks…it breaks in two
The shattering hurts,
and it screams,
Questions, questions, questions,
I don’t want the answers to,
not wanting anything
just the end….

even if I am afraid of the dark