I painted this dancer and I messed up her arms. But I rather like it. I can relate.

My body has its own rules

Hidden, not written down

Vague and unclear

Very fog of war and unfair

And when I make progress

The rules change again

Some things I get ya know

Wrinkles come with time

Hair changes consistency

Metabolism slows down

Your bones lose density

But I knew all that

So I planned for them

So I could shrink gracefully

I didn’t know however

How it would all feel

The wrinkles marking time

My hair has an attitude

My metabolism didn’t slow

It fucking up and died

And my bones…

Are whiny bastards

But its okay

More than okay

Because I’m here

Rules or no rules

I’ll keep playing

If it means I get to stay.

This is a NanoPoblano post.