113.

It’s been done by so many others
attempted descriptions of an anxious mind
but do you understand obsession?

I am exhausted by how full up I am on
blood and music and sex and maybes
and I can’t imagine a second of quiet

I crack my fingers, my back, my pelvis

And I think about the years I’ve yet to live
I think about the deterioration of my body
I think about the holidays I will never go on
the people I’ll never fuck
and the cancers I’ll surely get

I can’t just let myself enjoy my body
while I still have it 

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1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “113.

  1. Hard not to think about all the things we will never do. I’ve got a long list myself. Great post.

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