My curdled skin stretches against emerging muscle
I sag and I creek my girders grind my sockets pop
but somehow the skeletal structure maintains integrity
the foundation never sure ever shaky supports it
the mind looking down on it all complains.
I feel faint I feel fine I feel sad beholding my fissured features
the mirror is no longer my friend fashion mocks me
I’m in an arid desert hidden within a tropical paradise
the path through the jungle that led here is laden with fruit
the sweet taste lingers on these parched lips.
Poet13's Blog 
the sweet taste lingers…
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Don’t it though. Thanks.
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oh no, can I get you some chamomile tea? toast? I’ll remove the crust and cut it into little pieces.
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Understanding and acceptance – chamomile tea for the soul. Thanks. And I’ll take it with honey.
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