"story of Old"
I arose to the sun beating on my face
Stretching out all the aches and pains
Rubbing out the old stale tears from all the yesterdays
Whipping the sweat of all the left over strength from my pale brow
Sitting up, ignoring the pits that bellow beneath my stomach blue
Lazily peeling the strand of hair that seemed to hug the side of my lip
My lips chapped with defeat and thirsty for just a splash of elegant water
Standing up, fighting off the sleepy tingles that creep up the center of my spine
Wishing for those few and far between extra minutes that bend my dreams in half
A brand new day, awake and still dreaming
Walking desperately to the room that hides my flaws
Until I glance effortlessly and unwillingly in the mirror that stares back at me
Almost stalking me with its lustful glare
It is I whom eyeballs that once folded smile
I am beautiful in fact-beautiful in part-beautiful instead of dead wonder and
amazement.
To the cracking sound of the rays pushing through the clouds
Like thunder that breaks my heart in two
That secret warm wind finds its way to dance in and out of my hair, and my life.
A long deep breath, oh that somber crispness that invades all privacy
Again peering back at…me. Yellow my teeth have aged and stained
For one brief second remembering that piercing pain of my very first and young
tooth
Adolescence lost
I am old with love, old with hate, and old with excellence.
Aged to a fine wine, and bitter with the taste of passion
My skin, like leather; Tough to break, but has the snap of a whip
Thoughts fade in and out, like a wave meeting the shore, it slithers back lost in
sand
Lost in time, an hour has past and still not dressed
Those lingering hints of cheap perfume mixed with 20 years of sex that sleeps
within my sheets, with me, under me, and over.
I smile at the creases and pruned wrinkles that have invaded my once virgin
mouth
Only if I could peel this shell, this facade that I've hidden behind,or have grown
into.
That silver, shinny and brilliant with the essence of once a deep chocolate brown
Heavy are those lids that seem to hang beneath my once glamorous lashes, and
accented with a miserable gray tint
It’s ok…I've grown, with that tree outside my door; my leaves too are wilting.
Falling with only the beauty of a million laughs and tears
Throughout those years I've left behind, but reminisce and savor.
Copyright © Selena Tiffany | Year Posted 2007
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