Living Past My Expiration Date

They branded me with a deadline,

a sterile breath in a muted room:

“Ten years, if you’re lucky.”

I carried that echo in my marrow,

a candle lit against the dark.

But I am river and I do not stop,

rushing past their maps of limits

Each dawn spills new light

a rebellion in slow motion

Once, in a frost of despair

2008 draped me in its icy cloak

I exhaled toward oblivion’s edge

yet hands steadied the storm of machines,

rekindling lungs that whispered “Stay”

Two weeks of raw alchemy followed

tears and sweat in a county ward

and then barefoot on unknown paths

I learned how to turn poison into promise

My sober days became ripples in a vast sea

midnight prayers rising like incense to Source

Now every heartbeat thrums borrowed grace

a pulse tethered to something boundless

The scars etched across my flesh

are constellations of survival

guiding me when shadows gather

I wear my expiration date like a talisman

not a ticking clock

but a raised fist roaring “Not today”

Here I bloom through concrete cracks

roots entwined with ancient strength

petals reaching for endless sky

I move through life in elemental harmony

water’s flow, air’s song, earth’s pulse, fire’s glow

draped in gratitude for every breath

for currents of love that swept me back

and for the whisper of Source saying

our horizons stretch forever.

Laef Bowling