Technicolor Dreams

For Alissa

I have no fear of being ancient,
for if that--if that is my destiny,
so shall it be mine,
an old lady,
my tattered hands typing titillating titles on my typewriter

clack click
tack tack

A sunflower in my vase,
the sun shines in through the windows,
but I havent the time to close them, and I'm accustomed to the warmth it brings

The cool glass of water next to me stains the wooden table,
running down its ancient legs,
the ice is losing its youth,
as have I lost mine

Tho tis not a thing that which I mourn to have lost,
for with my youth,
a great many thorns hath been loosed from my worn side

Naïevity,
the pain of isolation,
the belief that no one will ever truly understand me

The lust of love,
and the lack therein,
all gone with the color of my once deep burgundy hair