My hands yearn for you to hold them again
seems I have become too complacent
inside of the idea you will come back to me.

I have yet to find the proof
lined inside of your eyelids.
Seems I don't even remember,
how they look anymore

Seems I don't even remember,
the sound of your voice
that lingers inside of this autumn air.

The leaves are falling,
making death seem so beautiful.

I am falling,
making love seem so miserable.

Here I go again-
lined inside of thoughts
that will never be congruent.

Consumed in all of these memories,
I have no idea what to do with.

Guess they will follow Fall's pattern,
perish until something better comes after.

Guess they will wither away,
inside of these winter winds.

I am tired of waiting for the Spring.