Pieces

I find my eyes under my pillow

Covered in dog hair and slobber.

I don’t even own a dog.

Irritating, finding my left index finger

In an otherwise perfect breakfast cobbler.

When did that happen?

I crack my back watching TV

And my whole body turns absolutely gimped.

“Chey… I did the thing again… Help?”

I’m sick and tired of getting dressed

Just to leave the house with a limp.

Big toes on opposite feet. Again.

Call center work makes me deaf.

Accounting makes me blind.

“I’ll send the invoice, soon as GREG gives me back my goddamn right thumb! Prank, my ass!”

Every day, older. More painfully numb.

It was easier when I was younger to be kind.

Where is my tongue?

Some nights I wake up breathless

My chest open, spilling my ribs and lungs.

I sleep on my back now.

Things weren’t so hard when I wasn’t falling apart.

I’m so sick of forgetting, but it seems aging is a battle that simply can’t be won.

Wait, who are you?

Why am I typing this?

Have you seen any teeth laying around?