Shrinking

Every day I become a little
smaller, by degrees.
Infinitesimal amounts.
Tiny shavings so insignificant
you wouldn’t notice.

But I do.
I feel it.
In my bones;
in my blood;
in my breath;
in my consciousness;
in my being.

And as I shrink, the space for me
becomes smaller, too.
Less capacity for my ribcage
to expand fully;
less room for my dreams
to lay like pages to be
pored over and admired.

I still fight it, but my resistance
has lessened over time.
My energy to trudge on gives way to
the inevitability of my
existence diminishing,

by degrees.
Infinitesimal amounts.
Tiny shavings so insignificant
you wouldn’t notice.

Until
I just
disappear

.


The featured image for this post is A Polar Sunbow Erupts Over An Iced Volcano by Trey Ratcliff.

Advertisements

One thought on “Shrinking

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s