When the leaves first start to change,
I know I have been warned.
Winter is on it's way and soon
I'll be forced to take refuge
from my thoughts, and the cold
that will try to slip into my bones
and rattle me to the core.

Though I've never been diagnosed,
I'm almost certain its true,
seasonal affective disorder lies
dormant in my veins
waiting for the first autumn breeze,
the first winter flurry,
the first ******* signal to send me
into yet another yearly downward spiral,
only difference now
is I'm becoming more aware of the signs.

Sometimes I can't sleep at night
and some mornings I struggle to open my eyes.
Mid lesson, my mind will wander,
taking me down dark pathways
cobblestone streets too often strolled down
by those who've yet to find a way around
the mind gripping struggle that is
Pumpkin Spice Latte commercials,
and fuzzy ******* sweaters.

These things that are supposed to bring comfort only bring me down.