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Age

A shadowy death spider crawls upwards Grappling at skin, slowly dragging you down Creating creases with unforgiving feet Clinging first to chin No thanksgiving for your turkey neck Jowls form, limp, sagging, thin Then the spider slips under your mottling skin Between joints, dragging heels Creaking, chiseling, chipping at cartilage Eating your apple, crumbling your bones Stealing memories, mocking mobility Hair turns from black too silver, and then grey A shadow of the former you Total bodily betrayal And a single, one way ticket, to god know where...

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 11/11/2012 11:12:00 AM
Cheryle, age means and makes... love the ending expression... xox~pd
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