my youth is gone

six years since
eyes burying dead dreams
squinting to see through the grey and blur
lips pink with passion
now red and splotchy, bitten by self doubt
ears that were tickled by sweet nothings
battered by bitter silence
wind-swept hair -a memory of what falls limp on slumped shoulders
when your soul screams to be heard
when your skin screams to be touched
ravaged inside out by love and loss
a tired candle in dried, shapless wax
once reminscient of a luminous, luscious fire
My youth is gone. And so are you.