41 years
passes
for each breath i take
i inhalate months
in seconds
it migrates along my air ways
and finds home in my lungs
conquers new territory
so, slowly age
spreads through my veins
covering from inside
the blood network
my young heart
keeps alive

for life.

death is like threads
tastes like vaseline
i know nothing of it
so, don't
ask me.

if i pour poison onto my lips
let them become
ravished red
for each breath itake
i'll live less.

41 years minus
my stories
minus my mistakes and escalated
tremblings
i stumble backwards
when leaps lift me ahead.

for what ever i regret
as many as they sample
and repeat
frequences
41 years will be erased
from the big bold book
of ranks.

i feel older than they tell me.

41 years
is given to me
by each level

i release
out.