Even the moon shines spooky tonight.
Clouds a light hue of eerie yellow.

A change is coming,
I can feel it as certain as the breeze.

Lips pressed red and time fading no slower then before.

My cheeks flushed pink from wine.

But I so stupidly miss you.

This change I feel in the very tips of my fingers and it whirls about the air around me.

It's coming... I don't know what...
But I've already gotten lost in the possibilities.