Youth should be left to the young, not exploited
I’ve got an eyelid palpitation that just won’t go away. I’ve got long distance vision that recedes, only, and fuzziness that hides everything that ain’t palm distance away.
I’ve got regrets! Things that have got behind me, and as much as I try rewind them, reality don’t work that way, even shrooming in the shower, or trying real hard.
‘Darlin, I don’t get to have you in my life.’ What a hard thing this is to accept. Living has consequences, and mutually exclusive alternatives seem evermore significant as the branching existence spreads further apart, and more verdant, always (we tell ourselves).
There are always young people nearby that may be tricked, fooled, bamboozled into wasting their youth on you, but tho you bathe in their blood, you gain yet nothing from it.
Find someone your age, your maturity, your match, and grow flabby, soft, saggy with them. Learn from them as much as you learn from the rest of life, and drink up their flesh with the understanding that happiness is the greatest toner of all.
(But She’s gone. And all there is is texting.)