By: Catherine Strayhall

She is faded.
Worn out,
Worn down.
Time stole her crown.

She’s no longer vivid, no longer bright –
A star that’s gone out in the darkest part of night.
A crinkled photograph developed long ago,
Ripped and featuring nameless the world will never know.
A love that started strong but fizzled in the rain,
The stormy days too rough for that fragile thing to sustain.
A memory that disappeared as the years stacked up,
Slowly vanishing and slipping away into the dust.

A pair of eyes grown cloudy after a lifetime of being sharp,
Unable to see clearly though they once could read your heart.

She’s just faded.