Something I Try To Leave

I’m pale,

white as snow-

cold as your eyes. 

Ancient,

eroding,

creaking like a rocking chair,

or an old swing.

Forgotten,

and left

to my own devices,

to my own troubles,

to my own worries.

Carved 

out of knotted willow-

scarred and chipped. 

Voiceless 

like a broken bird.

Silenced 

like a child’s question.

Sick,

hacking and sputtering. 

Collecting dust

like ships in bottles.

I lost sight in my left eye.

I fumble with my food.

I don’t play the piano anymore; 

my fingers don’t work. 

I don’t sing anymore; 

I no longer have things to sing about.

I don’t cry anymore; 

there’s more dignity in it.

I just sleep

and waste my days

and let the world pass me by

and waste away,

Like a rose

in a vase,

until all the petals 

lay on the table.

It’s ...

agony