How to tell him?

How to tell him

I’m not going to

Age well? I’m

Aging now, in the

Night, in the dark

These hands, these

Feet are swelling

And wrinkling. These

Warts are growing

These ears and nose

And eyes are growing

Into eternity till

They no longer hear

Or  see or feel like

They used to to

Him or me.

How to tell him that

My face, decaying,

Is still my own, although

It looks different,

Misshapen somehow,

Compared to Yesterday’s,

When the sun beamed down

In its Vitamin D and

He looked through

My eyes and into

My soul with

Blind desire, giving in

To me

Yesterday I felt

Him charge me

Up  – Electrolysis

In my veins, an

Electrical murmur

Through my limbs

But not my own.

Today that buzz

Is gone, the current

Lingers but grows

Weak until crash,

Boom, none.

Alone again, in

My midnight well.

Time drips slow

Again and my

Head drops, held

Between my elbows,

On my knees

Feet throb hot

On the cold floor,

Hands grown cold

And sweaty, jaw

And teeth creak

On rusting hinges

And Youth seems

Lost to the Light

High up,

Above.