Mica

Toenails brittle,
jagged sheets of mica

Skin picked at, flaking,
valleys of cracked mud

Hair falling, lacking luster,
crisp October leaves

Everything disease, teeth
abscessed rotting trees

Everything’s shed
Everything’s dead
Letting go
On its way out
Not long for this space

Just a bundle
of brilliance
on a constant crash
course
of forward motion
Demented momentum
always
Looking back

Not meant for this place;
everything is crumbs