Telomeres are like little hats at the end of each chromosome. They’re a sequence of repetitive nucleotides that prevent the chromosome from fraying, deteriorating, or fusing with other another chromatid. As you get older, your telomeres shorten, causing more error in DNA replication. Thus, our skin sags, our hair grays, and our eyes just don’t work like they used to.
I think we’re all just children
in big-kid shoes,
holding cigarettes and bottles of booze,
all just fumbling around like drunken lovers –
groping around at whatever hand reaches back to us.
I think we’re all just
children in button-ups and ties,
high-heels and bedroom eyes –
What are bedroom eyes?
Do any of us know
what we’re doing here,
are we all just dying painfully slow, or
is there something I’m missing?
Have I done something wrong?
When they passed out the manuals in high school,
Was I sick at home?
I’ve never felt so incompetent,
so feeble and raw,
like how a baby teethes on her chewed up thumb;
we cause pain to relieve it.
We become addicted.
And it’s all downhill from there.
We’re in slacks and ties and we’re crying,
Crazy in our bedrooms,
Crying bullets from our eyes –
Because you are never an adult;
Just a sad, grown-up child.