Dear Reader,

I'd just like a few moments of your time.
A few minutes to illustrate how and why I love Fall so much.

Fall is full of colours,
Full of sweaters,
Full of breezes that give you just a little chill.

But most of all?
it's full of a variety of changes.

Relationships end,
They begin,
People have an air of change about them,
something magical...
Something Whimsical.

Do you know what I love the absolute most though?
Her.

I love how her wild spirit matches the changes in the leaves.
Her hair in the wind reminds me of the wheat, as it sways this way and that.
Her smile is like the sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds - A brilliant radiance that I cannot be more grateful for.

But most of all...
The curve of her hand in mine is like a kind of natural magic.
Something graceful and fierce and sensual and teasing.
All one and the same.
It's beautiful.

I could compare her to a summer's day,
but what's the point?

She is magic.
She is the fall.
She is MY fall.
And she is my love.

This day has been overall pretty good
Then the shoe drops.

Nothing major,
No death,
bad news,
Or even a scrape.

Something small today,
Like turning your head and missing something.
You've forgotten something that was
Deep down.

But, like most things in life,
Chaos does it's wonderful work and
Changes everything.

You're reminded of your first love.
Something that happened so long ago
That it's merely a faded memory.
A shell of what it once was.

Although the more you think about it,
Infection spreads.
It works it's way through your whole body and mind,
And now your day is slanted.

An apt description is like the picture
You walk by on the wall every day,
But today,
Be it the settling of the house,
Shutting a cupboard a little too hard,
Or even looking at it for once,
You notice that it's askew.

I wish it was as simple as leveling it,
caressing it's worn-smooth edges,
Looking up at it and smiling,
Knowing that it's a wonderful memory and
Helped you become who you are before you move on.

But like the humanity in all of us,
You wonder about it.
"How did it shift?"
"What happened that it turned?"
"Why is this eating at me so much?"

And on,
And on,
Until you cannot contain yourself.
Mind spiraling out of control
As it feels like its eating you up inside.

Your heart breaks once again,
Anew.
You relive that memory over,
And over,
And over.

But, alas.
Most of us cannot shut it down,
Cannot turn it off.
We just have to sit with it,
Ruminating on the memory,
Until it decides to quiet itself
Once again.

Through all this,
We soldier on.

A fine stillness overtakes me
Balanced on the edge of a knife.

Emotional upheaval,
Physical longing,
Psychological unrest.
These are all fleeting things.

Moments.

Like a seed,
Hanging in the breeze.

Momentary bewilderment,
At being set free.
Then falling,
Gut wrenching,
Traumatic,
Exhilarating,
Joyful.

These things last but a second.

Stress,
Pain,
Joy,
Sorrow.

Fight through it and you'll see.

Stillness.

I seem to keep finding more and more scars lately. 

I'm not sure where they come from, 
Although I have the memories 
From them. 
They just keep appearing 
Out of no where, 
Like chips in a windshield 
Or cracks in a mirror. 

Somehow, 
Somewhere, 
Something happened. 
The memories are like music in a dream. 
I can hear it clear as a bell, 
But when I wake up it flutters away, 
Leaving just an echo.

All I want, 
All I've ever wanted, 
Is time alone with you. 

Twenty minutes, 
A half hour, 
It isn't too much to ask, 
Is it? 

I want to know you, 
In a way that so few 
Ever have. 

I want to show you 
My tattoos and scars. 
I want to see yours. 

I want to run 
My hands over them, 
Hear their stories 
And how you healed them. 

I want to tell you 
Stories of the people 
I've lost. 
I want to hear yours 
Of the people you've 
Loved. 

I want to kiss away 
Your tears, 
Like only you have 
For mine. 

I've only wanted some 
Time. 
Alone with you.

After years of arduous struggle with a muse that had no use for me aside from her petty problems and guilt, I may have found a new muse. 

Exciting as that may be, I must be cautious because it may just be another clever ruse by life again. 

But the hope still exists. 
And that, my friends, is what makes it so sweet.