It feels like every color
In every image
In every memory in my mind
It feels like they’ve lost saturation

Like lights don’t shine as bright
Stars don’t twinkle as much
Rain clouds constantly on the rise

With deafening silence
In a small crowd
Each word slowly getting duller
It still stabs me
But the blades of each word
Now takes more
Force
Force to cut through skin
Force to cut through thoughts
Force to paint in more color
Into the faded pictures

Phantasmagoric visions
Of archaic, but mesmerising thoughts
A constant metamorphosis
Transformation, not always evolution
Devolution still metamorphosis
As each synapse
Each word
Each thought
Each feeling
Each day
Each hour
Each minute
Each second
Loses that spark it once had

So I sit here
Printing pictures from my polaroid
Cutting out the faded parts
Realizing I was cutting the whole thing all along