Dust.

Published November 9, 2016 by April Fox

For the first time in my life,

I feel old.

I am old

but I never felt that way before, never felt

beat down

even when I was

beat down.

Never felt this ache, this deep

this tired fear that’s crept into my bones, my joints my blood

my brain.

There’s a black-and-white photograph of Tom Waits hung up in the pantry

a beer bottle sitting on the table

blood stains on my sneakers and life should be

alright

I should be ready

to continue, to set myself on fire, but today

I just feel old

and I can only watch things smolder

turn to dust.

3 comments on “Dust.

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