Gracefully Written

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to decay at twenty and three


an hour, sixty seconds, ten minutes pass me by;
no amount of time could rectify,
not a year or more, could heal my pain,
you see, i bare an incurable, lifelong burden,
forever these remain.

ponder yourself into a dreamscape filled with torment,
feeling unscrupulous agony;
defined by the confines of a diagnoses,
rotting from the outside in.
too young to gain condolences,
yet deteriorating as quickly as a clandestine calvary.

my skin, it aches, it stretches, and bruises,
as a bomb decimates entire communities.
this body creaks and cracks as if replaced by a wooden floor,
as if preparing for prewar.
exhausted to the point of cessation,
no energy left, drained with every breath and palpitation.

in this body that i call my own,
my home, my biome, and even my bones;
each and every little piece is rotting as i breathe.


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