i put you through hell,
yet you still love me...
i opened my heart,
and he chose to leave me...
what is the choice?
what is the comparison?

I choose you.

the one who hasn't left,
despite my many flaws,

people always leave,
but then there's you,
waiting,
like the inevitable twilight left over from a sunset,
or a rainbow after a storm,
not summer or winter,
or a new spring day,
you are fall,
my fall.
a brisk season of comfort.
the vibrant change,
from a neon summer,
that seems endless,
with no change,
the muggy presence hangs in the air,
until fall come to refresh it,
a cool breeze to cool the heat,
to change the leaves,
to change *me