I'M DONE

To a crispy fried beyond golden brown. I'm done.

My hair is puffed beyond recognition smoking like a rocket. I'm done.
My once melon-like breasts are crumbly dried hot peppers. I'm done.
My round goddess-like figure is pussy and stale. I'm done.
My legs that have held my body are stilts of dead wood. I'm done.
My feet that bear the burden of all of me are flat and sore. I'm done.
My aura is an undescribable mess of drab. I'm done.

May I go home now Mother?
May I now cool myself in the waters of my home?

I am longing to feel the cool night air licking my cheeks. Caressing my ankles.
I am longing to take this shrivelled up clump of me and fix it up right.
Pour home water on it, feed it garden food, and have the night heavens breath life back into it.

May I go home now Mother?
I'm done.