The Perspective of the Privileged Mind

By Anya Hume

You will age.

With every trickle of smoothing serum dripped,

And every dewy, plumping face mask disposed of,

You will still age.

Your skin will shrivel,

Your body will decompose.

You will always age.

You may curse yourself – 

To never smile so much your cheeks grow weak,

To never let the sun kiss your skin, leaving its red lip stains,

To never indulge in the meals that keep your stomach content.

You will age.

Take pride in your opportunities.

Savour them.

Some do not age.

They are cursed by others –

To always struggle to etch smile lines into the canvas of their skin,

To always have the elements mercilessly beat against their body,

To always have the volume of their stomach be an alarm clock for their body.

They will never age again.

Their body has already decomposed,

Their skin was provided no chance to shrivel,

They’ve stopped aging.

With every cacophony of horrified shrieks

and explosives terrorising communities,

With every gaping, lifeless individual

that lies tossed across pavements and debris,

With every debate between surrounding powers – 

“Which country is right?”, “But what about the money?”, “Do you own a suit?”,

Meanwhile,

They will not age.

By Anya Hume