waning

am i fading

are my colors growing dull

are my clothes somewhat out of sync

the frown lines etched around my eyes

am i now like a broken vase

will every flower be removed

for a newer one

am I invisible as i travel

i do not mean anonymous

i mean completely unraveled

like an empty spool of thread

will my eyes become empty

shallow from lack of intimacy

will my lips be so very lonesome

as my soul grows old

will my wisdom feel less winsome

will someone

anyone still love my vintage canvas

the one i’ve grown to be

or will i remain the me

the one i want to see

will i see beautiful in my reflection

in the way i die of laughter

the way i touch

the way i feel

my heart is like a master

in that reality

it has lived through so very much

everything to die for

and then to pick myself carefully

off the floor

of all i imagined myself to be

and as i move in moments

into the winter

will someone still walk with me

and love the trees and me

so stark

so empty

barren from fallen leaves

will someone

still see me

still call me beautiful

my faded jeans

my graying wisps

my favorite things

everything

everything

that life means

will someone

anyone still see me

cross the street

and call me lovely

or will that even matter to me

is love not timeless