they were forgotten
in the rush and anticipation of age,
as wrinkles settled into
weathered skin,
where scars had ripped their place into being-
the dreams eroded from my mind
and fell away, gone in the midst
of what I thought was so much more,
when there was still so much to be done.
and age hit.
it was gradual, but also
painful and sorrowful,
accompanied by aches and pains,
in elbows and knees
and the heart,
which had shriveled and stooped
like an elderly woman,
withering and shivering
and scared of the world.
everything had been accomplished,
the monotony of growing older had been
all used up, and the absence of dreams
of wants and needs and goddamned desires
that I never had
gnaws and claws and tears away
the satisfaction that
triumph should bring.
I feel like it's a bit anti-climactic, but I don't know how to strengthen the ending. Any thoughts?
Any and all title suggestions are dearly welcomed.
Thanks for reading!
-Coral-
