My autumn to winter boy

He changed like the seasons but this time there's no going back.

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The colour drained from his face like autumn leaves to winter, but still he injected more. His red cheeks turned pale under his eyes dark shadows formed. His fingers like twigs covered with frost reaching out for some sun light. Leaves started to fall like his hopes and dreams, his eyes grew darker every day and his voice was as cold and sharp as the winter winds. He started to steal and lie and hide in the shadows, maybe it was the shadows of his past or maybe the grey clouds of depression that had covered the sun whatever it was it was dark and it was spreading. Like the liquid in the glass tubes he so desperately clawed for. The liquid spread through out his veins you could sit and watch his eyes like windows. The black frames would flutter the pain away as the liquid disappeared behind his white walls. His claws would retract and he would sit there I suppose like a snowman waiting for the sun to appear and melt him away. He was starting to melt. I couldn't stop the seasons from changing no matter how hard I tried, no matter how hard I preyed and begged. It was inevitable selling my soul to the devil couldn't stop it. Filling his lungs with a heavy grey cloud he stubbed out the last bit of light I saw in him, the grey ash consumed the cigaret end so effortlessly, so smoothly. Veins once filled with blood ran hollow; as were all the glass tubes by his bed. His eyes were hollow, his smile was hollow, my heart, his head. He slipped away that day even though he had been slipping for a long time before then. Like a sledge down a slope, like rain through a cloud or a tear down my cheek.

Everything falls in the end. The leaves, snowflakes, raindrops, his smile and mine, his body;

and my heavy heart.

Even these words will fall one day, they fell out of my head onto the page. They will fall out of your memory soon enough and then what are we left with?

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