Fading

You are oblivious; you know not of my heart wrenching plight. My problems, tenacious, unyielding predicaments of outstanding complexity, are the least of your concern. Brooding, I meditate on the situation at hand, careful not to overlook the slightest detail.

Simply put, I still think of you.

Your face, home of your mouth, which spat forth fabricated stories, and all sorts of untruths. Your mouth, though full of repulsing beguilement, was completely alluring, once. I was transfixed, but not so much anymore.

I think of you, yes, but in a different light. Not in the light of a summer's day, but in that of a candle's flicker. A light that, sooner rather than later, will dwindle into nothingness.

I can barely see you.