Used to feel 
yes, yes;
now it’s more 
no, no, no;

used to be 
young, young —
and now?
Not so.

Had harsh words,
once, for
age and space;
agreed to disagree.

I lie here now,
choking on dust
from a life
I used to feel.

Did you, like me,
assume the best
of how your time 
would flow,

only to sharpen
and shatter within
when it moved 
toward stop from go?

My cocky shell
now broken up.
It pricks me,
and I bleed.

No matter that
my blood’s grown thin;
what little I have,
I need.

I bind my wounds
as best I can,
step back toward
yes and yes;

although the pull
toward no and no
is strong,
I will resist.