Whether the escalator is moving up or down, it can still tear us apart.

Tattooed teenagers fill the room
and my friend my age
wants to flirt with them
and I just want to die
or rip off my skin
that keeps growing
too old to be contemporary art.
My body is filled with wrinkles
and the younger faces and flesh and mouths
get more attention than my mind
and what comes out of it.
One month you Instagram me;
the next month I'm deleted and replaced
with instant coffee.
Maybe we have different taste buds
and different ideas
about amusement park rides.
I used to enjoy the quick release
of a roller coaster plunging down fast
and the escalating screams.
My shut eyes were filled with haunted house
strobe lights of terrified delight.
Now it feels more like a downward spiral
leading closer to death,
filled with hands that want
to push me down even faster.
One thing that's never gone away is my fear
of getting stuck in an escalator
that was created to cut off the good parts of me.

Juliet Cook is a grotesque glitter witch medusa hybrid brimming with black, grey, silver, purple, and dark red explosions. She is drawn to poetry, abstract visual art, and other forms of expression. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com.