a leaf’s lifetime
i was never a fan of autumn much.
my stomach churns as the first leaf makes its escape from gravity.
sometimes i wish to fall like that.
what i mean to say is:
a leafs lifetime is a summer,
and i envy that.
sometimes, i wish to wrap the sun in my arms and whisper to the leaves,
“your life will last a little longer, keep me company.”
or is that an illusion to what i wish people would do to me?
sometimes i try to laugh it off
but then that smile turns into tears
and i am lost despite it all.
please,
the irony is tangible to me.
sometimes i find myself watching life as the slope goes further downhill.
i am holding onto a thread
and i’m scared if i ever find my scissors it will all be over.
but then again,
here comes autumn,
telling me to let gravity do the job.
but gravity has smashed so many precious memories
that i am too scared to hold them that close to the sun.
now serving: neglect
i never craved attention,
until i tasted the emptiness of yours.
a falling life
you used to say to me
that your favorite season was autumn.
so my favorite season became autumn.
the first autumn without you
left me breathless.
it was like a storm of fiery leaves
blew within me
and corrupted the warm summer i had built up.
a bad smell in a field of lavender.
i crumple every day as i feel the chokehold of the memory of you tighten around my neck.
i have no power over my control,
just like the leaves have no power over theirs.
relations of the disregarded
decay is all i see in the leaves.
i spit with disgust as i crumple the disregarded.
i am right where you left me,
just eight hundred and fifteen point two miles to the east.
but who’s counting the
hours,
minutes,
seconds,
years.
i am the disregarded.
that’s how you treated me at least.
i hate autumn so much because i see myself within the colors and rotting…
do you know what the word “leave” means?
it can mean the little scrap of life that falls off the trees
or,
it can mean to “abandon, evacuate, run away from.”
autumn and i have so much more in common than i realize.
forgotten nature
i told the stars and moon and god about you
and all i heard was silence.
then i told myself about you
and all i heard were the screams to get out.
i lost something
for october rose up and dimmed out
i lost something that night
one of many
in that room
you said that thing
i cried that song
and i lost something
oh i lost something
i lost something
i lost something
cracked tooth
the first of the month
the beginning of the end
i am at the end of my dues
like a wheel,
i dirty and wear,
and turn over
and over
and over
a cycle i can not name
i am an unweeded garden
that lays notoriously whimsical
but who am i to blame for blind vulnerability?
like a cracked tooth on an apple
i am the organic taken to the factory
troubled and turmoiled
i struggled with the fact that
october faded away and
the end grows nearer and nearer
the pencil scribbles faster and faster
and the wheel cracks over the cacked-up dirt