The Descent
aging, take a turn
everything tastes like fear
gravel scatter driveway
my shadow before me
familiar handfuls of rust
beneath the patina
of eyes crinkled against
the morn
[i’ll waste another year]
4 thoughts on "The Descent"
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I’m there, too, but I keep trying not to waste more of myself.
“my shadow before me” is a haunting Dantesque image
Will you? Will you waste another year?
The last line slayed me.