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.