Im turning 35 (A poem)

I'm turning 35. 

My friends have gotten

Their first greys

Their first wrinkles

They complain of hair thinning

And knees aching

I haven't gotten my first grey

Not a first wrinkle

My hair is so thick still

My knees do ache too...

But

So does everything else

Instead of wrinkles,

My face is pallor with slight yellow

In place of greys, 

I have lots of mobilility aids

Instead of thinning hair, 

I no longer have the energy to brush mine. 

My knees ache too

But so does my back

And my neck

And my legs, arms, feet, fingers, and toes

Give me the wrinkles,

The greys,

The thinning

I want to be 35 in every typical way.

This isn't typical.

I don't like it.

It's not fair. 

I don't like it at all.