When I am old
My cheekbones will be
Exquisite reminders of the
Beauty I never had,
My lips will quiver with
Unsaid words:
Apologies,
Explanations,
Regrets.
Unlike some,
I always knew I could
Not stay young forever.
I could always picture
The veiny hands,
Crepe-y skin,
Varicose legs
Beneath my youth.
Now I find myself
Somewhere between;
Not young
Not old,
Past the boundaries of one
On the brink of the other.
If I could I would
Not go back, but
I gladly go forward with
Small apologies for what I
Might have been, but no
Excuses for who I’ve
Become.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
This is one of your best. I hope that i’m able to do the same, but i confess that it bothers me!
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Thank you Janie. I worked on this one for several days. I swear some days i feel this way and on others i beat my chest and cry, ‘no fair!’
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Loved this!
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Thank you so much!
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