breathe it in

breathe it in.
that fresh breath
becomes bile
so the elders tell us
a baby's toothy smile
grows into
the crone's rotten jaw.
since woman first tilled the earth,
hardships gather
ashen clouds before you
and before you know it
thousands of molten flakes
burn their way
into your lungs
and stick, and grow,
and come to
live there, within you
you grow indignant
existence becomes pain
pain becomes habit
habit becomes

it's not worth it
why get back up?
before you know it
the earth has turned
her face from you.
bile becomes breath,
still, breathe it in again