The bottom of my shoes have been worn down
and there are holes in my socks that expose tired toes

There is moss on my back and the crevices in my skin
have become homes for dust particles and anthropods
and I have begun to sag in surrender to gravity

My sweaters are tattered and beginning to pill
and sometimes when I’m nervous or waiting in line at the grocery store
I pull at the loose threads
and imagine myself unraveling, untangling, falling apart

Your smiles have drained my vitality and
your kisses have turned my hair the color of sidewalks
I have eroded all of my joints for you and
relished you until I have become weak

I am dilapidation, I am decay
It is a relief, being done with beauty.