Shrunken.

is a slow disappearing

of the true you.

One day the despondent unsuspecting self spent time in a great shower, and the skin pruned - Shrunken. You begin shrinking from your radiance, from your honesty, from the taut grape-like flesh of your body. You are now less courageous, you minimize the space your take, you have brain-fog when it comes to words to articulate your essence, questions that are outrageous, ideas that are fresh. Did time play tricks on your body, or did it play tricks on your mind? The cost of shrinking away is the pride you swallow, the better days only you remember, and the sound of digital TV, flat and disembodied. The antidote to shrunken: ditch the clock-watching, bite the bullet, and perhaps some good posture. Death memorialises the shrunken, it does not mind the hallowed you, it is only natural, as water, air, life, you, all completely fall away, fall into grace.