Fading light.

Deviation Actions

sirenseranade11

Published: Oct 13, 2011

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Literature Text

Our voices could carry these heavy autumn clouds away, but we are silent and still, trying to get lost in time. We sit in my sun bleached living room, watching the seasons change like the color of your eyes. Leaves fall like grotesque tear drops, like nature's final salute to hope. The leaves are falling and I'm watching you change and the music that once was so strong lays silent. I wouldn't recognize it if I heard it again. Today, I am sober for the first time in weeks and I wake up alone in my little room. It is cold and damp in a way that hurts my bones, so I keep the blinds closed, pretending that this filtered light will stain my walls gold again, like it used to. There is something dull and modern about the world now, like draining pictures of their sepia tones, yet insisting they're still magical memories. There's something false in all of this. Time passes, I can feel it slipping through my hair, but somehow in the past few months I've lost the ability to read time. I could be laying in bed forever and I would never know it. I'm waiting for the clarity that comes when you've got nothing else to lose, but for now, everything has a sand paper touch, like it hurts just to see. It's funny what time can do to a person, just the idea of it. Six months ago, when then sun began to rise, I though I had a chance. And now, I just don't know.