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Scraping past a tooth, a fingernail grows thin;
The last evidence of a life lost in time
Is this dead keratin.
Swirls from the mind, consuming everything,
Cement uncertainty in the soundest mind,
Loosening grip within.
Each day starts anew, by popular belief;
Yet all is the same except the white numbers,
Not turning a new leaf.
Moving, yet static motions of tumbling grief
Are borne by bodies smoldering to cinders,
Never able to leave.
https://twwrt.wordpress.com/2022/11/21/unresolved/