Sitting on the palms of my wrinkled hands,
Swimming in the cracks between my brittle ribcage,
Spinning, below the sinking sky inside my chest,
There you are.
The lines on my palms hold years I can not remember,
The wrinkles in the creases of my eyelids hold memories I never knew
Rivers are streaming inside my veins, running down my body faster than I’ll ever be able to run again–
Is the color I used to feel when you lived inside me
Is the color I am now that you’re gone.
My body has become older than I,
My bones can not hold everything that still lives inside my young soul.
I want to dance,
But I am so tired.
I want to run,
But I am so weak.
Inside of me is every world I never lived in,
Every world that will stay trapped inside my now forgetful mind
18 years old,
Now I am 80 years old.
My daughter don’t forget that one day your hands will be as worn as mine,
Your bones will one day be so weak you can no longer stand,
But one day your mind will forget that you were ever able to.
My daughter promise me you will travel all the universe’s, that spin inside your soul,
For one day they will be gone
For one day you’ll be gone

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Cory Garcia
about 6 years


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